Drop Dead Sexy Heroine
by dr.cbeck
Summary: Dresden's former apprentice is under attack and on the run - trying to put together the pieces that will lead her to freedom, or maybe just to her death.  Set between Changes and Ghost Story, around the time of Aftermath.   Finished
1. Chapter 1

**Title: ** Drop Dead Sexy Heroine

**Rating:** PG-13/R / M

**Spoilers: **Changes

**Warnings:** Rated Mature for language, graphic violence, and adult themes

**Summary: ** When Dresden goes missing, it's not just his life that comes to an abrupt halt. His former apprentice is under attack and on the run - trying to put together the pieces that will lead her to freedom, or maybe just to her death. Set between Changes and Ghost Story, around the time of Aftermath.

**Disclaimer: **The Dresden Files is copyrighted by Jim Butcher. This story is licensed under a Creative Commons (by-nc-nd) License as a derivative, noncommercial work of fiction.

_Excerpt_

_I gathered my will and held it close to me. I focused my thoughts into a vision of perfect, crystal clarity. I ignored the tears streaming down from my eyes. I took a final, deep breath, and blew a stream of air across the circle of salt in front of me, breaking it, and releasing the spell as I did. I blew it out, forward, then pulled it back in around me, forming the magic with the love I had felt since I was a kid. There was nothing more I could do. I was tired, damaged, and aching. And I was about to embark on the second most idiotic thing I had ever done. But hey, the first one only got me almost killed, so that's got to be worth something._

**Drop Dead Sexy Heroine**

I.

Some things are too good to be true. Things like fairy godmothers, monsters under the bed, love at first sight, and world peace. But in my life, I have seen at least the first three of those four. Was it too hard to believe the fourth one was within reach? It certainly seemed to be.

Right then, I was surrounded by everything black and silent. Peaceful. Beautiful black. Beautiful silence. But there was a muffled grunt, and all that beautiful darkness that was my world came crashing down. So much so that I couldn't move.

I screamed.

Something writhed on top of me. "I've got you this time you dirty little gremlins!" boomed a voice from above. "Now hand over my stash 'fore I step on you!"

I twisted, trying to break free of the pressure. "I-, I don't… what?" I vaguely recalled falling asleep exhausted somewhere… but where exactly was just outside my grasp.

The weight on top of me shifted. "Huh? Who dat? Gremlins don't talk!"

A quick check did little to ease my confusion. I was surrounded by damp cardboard that smelled like an odd combination of body odor and cheap wine. A more thorough investigation (I did learn from the best after all) revealed that I was covered at least from the chest up in silly string and Ketchup. No, I thought, check that. It looks more like blood.

"I said I'll burn it to the ground before I give it to you!" the voice boomed back into my awareness. The voice belonged to the disturbing face of some bum. He was staring me down through an opening ripped into the cardboard above and close enough that I could smell the rot on his breath. The rest of him was apparently sprawled on top of the collapsed cardboard box, and, since I was in it, more or less on top of me. I really longed for that peace.

Thank God at least for the cardboard box. Without that small grace of separation, things might get ugly. Well, uglier, anyway. Harry always said it was the little things that can change a situation from unimaginably horrific, to slightly less unimaginably horrific.

He never mentioned anything about deranged bums and silly string, though.

If Harry were still alive, of course, I'd punch him straight in the face. Or maybe slap him. That'd be the more lady-like thing to do. And I am working on that aspect of my personality. Besides, it's not like there's anyone to say the slap can't be delivered with the accompanying force of several dozen kinetic rings –and fired off all at once. I mean, I could take it if a couple of Grey-cloaked wardens came to my door, slapped on some magical cuffs, and gave me some nonsense like, "Miss Carpenter, it is your day of Reckoning! Come forth that we might removeth your head!" But instead, I just get to run for my life for the third time this week without any idea of who's after me or why and with no skills to fight back. Sure, a chick shouldn't blame her dead mentor when all he had were good intentions... So sue me.

The bum half-grumbled half-yelled something unintelligible and threatening, and I drew up what little strength I had to forcefully roll over and send him tumbling off the box and into a nearby puddle. I had to stop thinking about Harry. I crawled out of the box and did my best to look menacing. Summoning my wits, I declared, "How dare you disturb the slumber of the Gremlin Queen!"

The bums eyes opened up wide enough that they might fall out of his head. Being dressed in knee-high combat boots, tattered clothes, and covered in gore mixed with clumps of silly goo must give quite the impression. I straightened to my full 5 foot 10 inches, and ran a hand through my disheveled pink hair. The bum started slowly backing away on all fours. It looked something like a cross between a crab walk and the crawl of a drunken spider. I know, but trust me, they_ can_ get drunk.

I took a step forward, started to say the next ridiculous thing that came to mind, and promptly collapsed into the same puddle I sent the bum into a few moments ago.

Pain surged up my right leg and forced my consciousness into a tight ball of bright nothing. After a beat, the pain eased back and I was consciously thinking again. The bum was nowhere in sight. Apparently, a gore soaked gremlin queen -covered in who knows what and splashing around in a puddle (also of who knows what) - was enough for him to surrender his crumpled box.

At least the puddle was kind enough to lessen the gore and celebratory foam that clung to me. That could be useful on the off chance I encountered someone that wasn't crazy.

Even though I didn't want to, I looked down at my leg. Dark black strips of cloth were tied securely around my thigh. I happen to have liked my thigh. Someone was going to pay for this – if only I could find a sugar daddy and a plastic surgeon who operates with utensils made in the early 80's –someone was going to pay for this.

I weighed my options and decided against peeking under the strips to see what damage was lurking, and became concerned, instead, that the cloth appeared to have come from the lower portions of my new skirt. Crap. I already _had_ paid for that. And it wasn't cheap.

I put on a pout for no one in particular and folded my arms. "If I wanted a mini skirt, I would have bought a mini skirt," I mumbled to myself. Quite unexpectedly, I received a sympathetic whine from the dumpster beside my puddle.

I looked over, then stared the dumpster down with my best impersonation of an inquisitive Mr. Spock. "You've got to be kidding," I said, "I know I'm a little fuzzy on today's down-low, but I think I'd remember spontaneous animation of dumpsters."

In response, a large grey mass of fur began to materialize near the back corner of the dumpster. After a few moments, the fur let out a low "Wuff," and hobbled out from the shadows wearing a big, tongue-lolling grin.

I looked away and pretended to be put out. "I'm not even going to ask how you fit back there"

Mouse cocked his head to the side, flopping his ears around. His face said _Did I miss something? I hope it wasn't dinner._

I put my earlier pout back on. "So what's your excuse for leaving a gal in distress, huh? If Harry was in that box, you'd be eating that bum for dinner. Then you wouldn't have a thing to complain about."

Mouse's good ear drooped down lower, and the grin slipped away. His head ducked down in sadness, or shame - or maybe a little of both - and gave a final whimper before settling into a heap on my puddle's shore.

I hadn't taken the time to notice; he looked worse off than I was. And no matter how much I tried to pretend it wasn't, Harry was a sad, touchy subject.

I sobered. "Right, I didn't mean it to sound like that. This is one hell of lousy way to start a night. Let's go find a friend."

MacAnally's Pub was not in the best part of Chicago. Lucky for me, I wasn't in the best part of Chicago, either. Still, there's a lot of Chicago that wouldn't be considered the best part. And limping along on one good leg with a dog, that to any casual observer appears to have been on the losing end of a fight with a bobcat, made for one hell of a long trip.

Mac greeted me with an unfriendly, "Hunnggh," and narrowed his eyes down on Mouse. He softened as he observed our condition and flicked a thumb towards the door near the back corner of the bar.

I collapsed onto the floor of the small storage closet, and prayed Mac had enough sense to be calling someone discreet for help. As I slipped into a dark, peaceful unconsciousness for the second time that night, I wondered if maybe this was what death felt like.

I blinked twice.

My head was resting on something warm. I tried to form my thoughts into something cohesive, but they stayed right the hell out of reach.

There were voices. Angels? I tried to listen.

"Maybe, but it was awfully bad for business…" someone was saying.

Ok, not angels.

"Would you have rather she just lay outside your door and bled out? Besides, I don't do stitches in the rain."

Alright, I'm not dead. And that voice sounded familiar.

"Just saying, the place emptied," Mac continued.

Right. Mac. I was in Mac's Pub. That officially marked the first time I had ever heard Mac continue anything.

"How long have I been out?" I finally managed. But it came out more like, "Huuh lunguv uh buuuhhh…"

The familiar voice leaned over me, peering down into my eyes and waving a little flashlight around. "Shush now," said Butters. "You've got ten stitches in your cheek. The lodicane shot will have your face half numb for the rest of the night, and if you flap your jaw too much, you're going to open them up again."

The _Something Warm_ under my head moved. I caught my breath then let it out. It was just Mouse. He nudged the other side of my face, probably saying _Welcome back. Now you get to see what it's like keeping your trap shut. Oh, gotta go potty? Too BAD! Hahaha!_

Ok, I'm probably exaggerating what he thought. But damn, I did have to go. I looked around the broom closet. Not a good place. What would Mac think?

Butters was still talking. "And I'm not even gonna ask you about the gashes in your leg. Their sewed up, but you're to stay off your feet for a week."

Butters was a medical examiner for the city, and one of the few in the "know" about supernatural occurrences in Chicago. He was also one of Harry's trusted friends, and the guy who apparently stitched me up. But still, that didn't give him the authority to be the boss of me.

"Nuhh uuhh…" I said. "Gossa go." I meant that in more ways than one.

I opened my eyes to go, and was greeted by the warmth of a popping, crackling fire. Which was particularly odd, since Mac doesn't have a fireplace. Just my luck, the one place I go to for help decides to burn down that same night. "Well, at least I'm going down in good company," I said to Mouse, reaching up behind me to stoke his head, but finding, instead, a thumping tail.

"Oh, I see we've come back to earth again," Butters said from somewhere nearby. "I was starting to wonder if I'd hear from you before the day was over."

I blinked a few times trying to take in what he was saying, but it all sounded like rocket science to me. I tried to look around, then grimaced. I put my hand over where the pain seemed to be focused, and found stitches that started just below my left ear, and continued on to about the spot on my cheek where a dimple would have been, if I had any worth noting.

"That's gonna be sexy as hell when it heals," I murmured in disgust. Butters was sitting on a chair across from me.

"I tried to get you into bed, but you wouldn't let go of the dog," he said. "I just couldn't manage to get you both up there. Want to tell me what's going on?"

I tried to ignore the possible double entendre and opted instead to look around. Shifting my eyes from left to right I took in the fireplace and the furniture that looked like it would have belonged in a museum. Or at least it would if it all weren't so thoroughly used.

My gaze fixed back on him and my head started to clear. "Would if I could. I take it this is Murphy's place?"

"Yeah, I didn't think she'd mind since she's following a lead out of town somewhere or other for the next few days. Her place was closer than mine."

I spotted my backpack over by the door, and narrowed my eyes in consideration.

"Billy brought it to Mac's," Butters offered. "He said he found it when looking into the fireworks display that went off near the college in the middle of last night. Don't suppose that rings a bell?"

Bits of memory started shuffling their way into my aching skull. "Uh…oh!" I stammered, as the previous night came into focus along with the pain in my leg. "Two ghouls! I was on my way to Billy's to see if he could let me and Mouse crash there. Just for the night. They came out of nowhere! One hit me hard broadside. The other aimed for my gut, but ended clawing my leg. Left me too disoriented to get off a good veil. I just remember throwing up every distraction I could think of."

"Ahh… I take it you defeated them with a can of silly string?"

Huh. I grinned. "No, I used that ring I found on Harry's boat to knock 'em back. The sad part is it knocked me back too. Right into a heap of trash on the side of the road. Mouse took over after that."

"Well that would explain the smell. Still doesn't account for the silly string, though."

I grimaced. I had been hoping it was Mouse that was stinking the place up. "Bad luck," I explained. "And bad timing."

He eyed me, waiting. I didn't give him anything more.

Sighing, he got up and inspected the stitches on my cheek and the bandage on my leg. "Well, now that we have all that settled, how about we explain why you went into a delirious fit earlier when I said I was taking you to your folks place?"

My Family! Dear Lord, I forgot about them… I turned to Butters. "We've got to go. Now."

"Absolutely not," Butters replied, putting his polka-stomping foot down. "You shouldn't move, much less be sitting up right now. And looking at Mouse, he couldn't go somewhere if he wanted to."

The mound of fur curled up tighter at my back and let out a frustrated sigh.

"Mouse can stay. We go."

Butters resolutely crossed his arms and started nonchalantly humming some tune I didn't recognize –but it sounded like the sort of thing you might hear on an elevator ride to polka hell. He stared off to the side, ignoring my plea with a look of indifference. I vaguely recalled that he drew on his inner polka for strength, and decided to shake his resolve with a more subtle approach.

"Maybe you're right," I purred. "I am beat after all. We should just stay here and get comfortable."

I flashed him the most seductive look I could muster, reached down, and slowly peeled my shirt up and over my head. The move stretched open a half dozen small cuts and scrapes across my stomach and sent me reeling back into mouse. He groaned and shifted uncomfortably.

Having your face contorted in agony probably doesn't send the sort of come-hither sex appeal I was going for, but when I glanced up at Butters, he still had the deer-caught-in-the-headlights look of uncertain terror I wanted to see. I pulled myself back up straight, stuck my chest out, and made sure a few piercings were gleaming in the firelight. "Looks like I'm gonna need some help getting out of this," I said, motioning to the lace bra that covered so little it appeared merely as a formality. "Don't want to miss any spots while you work on my sponge bath."

Butters swallowed hard and glanced nervously at the front door. I kept my game face and continued, "We wouldn't want any of these little cuts to get infected, now would we?"

He fidgeted a bit and pushed his glasses up with the tip of his index finger. I pulled my good leg up towards me and let my skirt slide down to reveal the rest of my thigh, and, maybe from his position, the bottom of a butt cheek. "Maybe we should start here," I said, wiggling my toes.

"Uh… I cleaned and um, uh, I treated every cut I could find," he stammered.

"Maybe we better check and make sure you didn't miss one, hmmm?" I reached up under my skirt and made like I was about to take off something naughty.

"No! No no!" Butters all but screamed. "Oh, God, I knew you when you were like, way to young to act like that. Hell, you're _still_ to young to act like that."

"Well, you can't leave me here, I just might go into shock and die. What's it gonna be? Are we going to leave now, or am I going to have to get Naked?" I said the word naked a crudely as I could, so it came out more like "nekkid" and just stared at him.

"Ok, ok. Just get some decent clothes on. Holy…We'll have to wrap your leg up tight and find you some kind of crutch. Christ, girl, just let me think a second…" he breathed hard for a few beats then said, "Ok, we'll go."

"Throw me my bag," I said with a wicked, delighted grin, "I've got some 'age appropriate' clothing in there for you."

Butters went about detaching the handle from a broom to use as a walking stick and demolishing one of Murphy's sheets to make a secure wrapping for my leg. I changed into the black calf-length cotton skirt and "Tinker Bell Sucks Dick" T-shirt I had in my bag. It's one of my favorites. By the time I had slipped on my combat boots and added a long knit sweater I found in Murphy's coat closet, I almost looked like a respectable wizard again. Almost. Maybe if the shirt was grey instead of neon green. And maybe if the sleeves of the sweater didn't abruptly end some five inches short of my wrists, with one a half inch shorter than the other. But it's not like I'm auditioning for the best-dressed rouge practitioner or anything.

I fidgeted, tugging down on the shorter sleeve. "You make sure the place stays safe," I said to Mouse. Then I limped out the door to go find Butters' car, and, if I was lucky, my sanity.


	2. Chapter 2

"I still don't think this is a good idea," Butters said as he eased his ancient Volvo wagon up to the curb. We were a block down from my family's house. I had spent most of the time during the ride explaining the death sentence hanging over my head. "If what you're telling me is right, then there is no way we ought to take a chance and have you go out there. I'll go."

"I already told you," I said in frustration. "If that fight with the Ghouls wasn't just a chance encounter, then my family could already be in danger. I have to see for myself that they're ok."

"But if there's a warden around, you said they'd Kill you!"

"I also said I'm good at veils. Nobody's going to have a clue I'm there. And we don't have time to argue about this." I hoped I sounded more confident than I felt. In my current state, I wasn't so sure how good my veils would be.

But I couldn't exactly sit in car like some helpless child. Especially not while my folks might be getting bled for information by a couple of pissy ghouls either. Even if they weren't specifically after me, they were alive and out there somewhere. And they had my sent. Checking on my family simply had to be done. Harry would never let someone else do their dirty work, and I wasn't about to dishonor his memory by letting Butters pull the macho card on me. No way.

"Just keep the engine running," I said.

I took a deep breath and focused on my will, just like I did in the first lesson Harry ever gave me. It seemed harder to do tonight than it was during that first lesson, though. I took a half beet to focus on the throbbing in the back of my skull, then on all the rest of the aches and pains and pushed them aside. I concentrated on each of the physical senses, and imagined them disappearing. One sense at a time, I felt the world go dull. I looked down the street and saw my house through the haze of a veil.

Clearly, I wasn't on my game tonight. Generally, my veils are good enough that I can hardly tell they're up. Well hells bells, Harry would have said. "Here we go," I said, and opened up the car door.

The simple act of walking the length of a city block while holding up some poor imitation of a veil proved to be a lot harder than I would have thought. I ached in places that I didn't know I had, and every step sent agony up and down the length of my leg. God bless little butters for getting me a broom handle, for all the good it's doing.

About twenty feet from the edge of my lawn, the hairs at the back of my neck stood up. I tensed and looked quickly around. My eyes immediately landed on the bulk that was hurtling towards me. Not so good of a veil after all. I gripped the broom handle with both hands, spinning on my good leg, and swung it hard like I would a baseball bat.

I was either a better aim than I realized, or luck was on my side, but the stick landed with a solid crack of impact right on the nose of the wolf-looking thing. Even though I had derailed the slashing attack of fangs coming at me, the beast was in mid flight when I hit it. It still came barreling into my chest with the force of a cannon ball. I went down on my ass. The wolf-thing rode out its momentum and came to a tumbling halt a half-dozen feet away.

I had the air knocked out of me. It was all I could do to hold the veil and try to scoot away. I managed to get off a few distracting sparkles to hold the monsters attention while I moved down wind. I was pretty sure he couldn't see me. I had just enough time to consider I must not be covering my smell when the wolf's attention locked in my general direction. He charged. I hauled myself up and dived to the side, putting all of my weight onto the injured leg in the process.

I cried out in agony and lost focus on the veil. The wolf-thing sailed past me, landed and turned sharply when I suddenly popped into view. I help up my fist, aimed it at the thing and focused everything I had on releasing the kinetic energy that had been stored in Harry's ring. I could only pray it was regenerated enough since the previous night when I set it off.

I breathed hard. It wasn't working. I could feel the energy there, but I couldn't get it to let go. I _had_ to make it to let go. I did it last night, why not tonight? And why wasn't I being eaten alive right now?

I looked up. The wolf-thing had stopped its charge and was pawing around me in an agitated circle, huffing every few seconds between growls. Realization dawned on me.

That was when we both saw it. Or rather, heard it. It was a strangled scream that sounded like something you might encounter if Steve Urkle was trying to impersonate Tarzan. Both the wolf and I had been too preoccupied with one another to notice that Butters had come running down the street, but we turned our heads in unison to see him. By the time he finished his Tarzan-gone-geeky scream, he had the crowbar raised well above his head and was two steps short of the wolf.

"No!" I yelled, but it was too late. He was already bringing the crowbar down like a club.

Rather than try to duck away, the wolf stepped quickly into the swing and under it, turned broadside to the rushing man, and leaned into Butters' oncoming legs. There was way too much forward motion for the medical examiner to do much of anything at that point other than go ass over coffe-pot into the neighbor's yard.

I let out a sigh of relief while Butters lay there blinking up at the stars. The wolf made an impatient-sounding huff and walked off motioning with his head in a gesture that seemed to be saying "follow me." I pulled my veil back up and went trailing after him towards the side of the the neighbor's house.

By the time I got behind the bushes along the side yard where the wolf disappeared to, I saw Billy hastily pulling on a pair of sweatpants that he must have left there earlier. Too bad. I placed the end of my walking stick firmly down over the T-shirt that was lying at his feet. I leaned heavily on it.

Billy was a werewolf. More importantly, he was the leader of a gang of werewolves called the Alphas and one of Harry's trusted friends. The upside of being a werewolf was that you could pretty much handle just about anything. The downside? You had to do it naked.

He reached down and tugged unsuccessfully on the pinned shirt. "Dammit, Molly," Billy swore, "This is no time for games."

I eyed him with an even, angry glare. "Fair enough, but considering you started the games by trying to kill me, how about you play along. Besides, it's not fair that Georgia's the only one who gets to oogle those fine abs."

"How about you tell me what the hell you're doing here," Billy said testily.

"I was about to ask you the same thing. Considering the whole attempted murder here, why don't you humor me and spill the beans before I get more pissed off." I suddenly felt growing frustration. "Who knows, I might decide to flex my sorcerous muscles and roast you," I said flippantly.

"Right, the best you could hope to do is dazzle me to death."

"You might want to consult with your nose on that one, buddy."

Billy touched his nose gingerly and winced. I pulled in every ounce of pain, frustration, and helplessness that I felt, and focused it on the upper tip of the broom handle. Much to my surprise, it actually started smoking. "Do you really want to make me prove it to you?" I said, doing my best to sound confident. Harry always told me that a good bluff is better than a big gun. "Let's see, that saying goes something like 'there's no fire so hot as a woman's scorn,' right? I guess were about to find out."

"Jesus Molly, Chill out!" Billy cried, glancing at the smoking end of the stick as it suddenly burst into a hot, blue flame. "There's no need to be like this, I'm only trying to help here."

I barely heard him. I was too startled at the flame. Before it happened, I felt the sudden change. The frustration I was channeling to hold the smoke effect changed into a hot anger. And that anger got all kinds of malevolent real quick like. The power just surged through me and left me tingling head-to-toe. I knew instantly that I really could roast him if I decided to. I didn't know how it happened, but I was pretty sure I was on the cusp of some ugly dark power. Black magic. I shivered at the thought. How could it come so easy? I've never even worked out any of the formulae.

"There you are," Butters said. Apparently I dropped the veil. "And what are you doing here? What's going on?" He stared hard at the half naked changeling.

Billy looked concerned. I realized I was crying. Shit. Crying like a little girl.

My two macho heroes shuffled me back out to the Volvo.

"I don't know what happened," Billy said, leaning his hip against the side of the car. "I just wanted to get us out of sight so we could talk. And she starts coming at me like I stole her favorite teddy bear."

I twisted my head to peer out the open car door. "She can hear you. And I don't sleep with stuffed animals anymore."

Billy eyed me nervously, and both men stared at me quietly, probably waiting for some explanation.

"Would you believe PMS?" I finally offered.

Butters raised his eyebrows quizzically, and I took a few more seconds to collect my thought and ponder. I reached out with my mojo to feel around. Sure, Harry calls it his 'arcane senses' or some nonsense. Mojo seems to fit better. But anyway, I reached out to get a feel for the magic around me. What I felt left me nauseous. There was an ugly weight everywhere, like a steady hum in the air. The night was filled with the remnants of black magic. And I knew that all of _that_ didn't come from me.

"Black magic, it's been used here," I said quietly. "I can feel it all around. I guess I was too busy with pain and worrying to notice it before. I must have been so drained that I started channeling it. I'm sorry Billy, I didn't mean to be like that. I was just.." I was gushing. I had to stop gushing. Molly Carpenter does not gush.

Billy dismissed the apology with a wave of his hand. "We've got other problems," he said. "I came here to watch your place after I left Mac's. I've been patrolling the block since then. Two goons tried to slip into position for an ambush about an hour ago. Someone's definitely looking for you."

"Ghouls?" I asked

"No, but they were professionals," Billy offered. "Had silenced guns and good defensive moves. I think I left a piece of one of their asses in your front yard if you want to try and track them."

I smiled at the thought. An ass as an asset –it sounded like the title for some lame lyrics I might here at a poetry slam. "No," I said, "If there's goons involved, I know where to go." I felt some confidence creeping back into me.

I spent a few moments flushing out the plan that was forming in my head. Heh, a plan. That's more than Harry ever had. I just might come out of this on top after all. I turned to Butters. "I'm going to need your help for a little bit longer."

About three minutes later, both guys had finished bickering with me. Butters agreed to keep being my chauffer, and Billy agreed to keep someone in place to watch the house. He wasn't too happy about that. Considering the Alpha's resources had been stretched pretty thin since Harry vanished, I don't know that I blamed him. But it needed to be done, and I had other things to do. After all, there be witching afoot! Or something.

Butters climbed into the driver's seat and got the car started. He popped in a cassette labeled 'power tunes' and regarded me with and expression that had _now were ready _written all over it_. _"Where to?"

"Back to the bat cave!" I replied. "I need to prepare my utility belt."

"Murphy's it is then." And with the sounds of contemporary polka as my guide, I sank back into the faux-leather upholstery and slipped into unconsciousness.

The dreams I had during the first few moments of that car ride were the strangest I had felt in, well, like ever. The weight of black energy danced around me like an erotic striptease and slowly became a solid entity. It pressed hard against my body and writhed to the rhythm of crashing waves and a steady polka beat. I pressed back harder and felt what could only be described as wantonness. I felt my nipples go erect as that weight embraced me, and damned if I didn't feel wet. I wanted it so bad. I could feel myself starting to meld with it. Starting to become it. There was a pleasant, intense tingling starting in my toes and cheeks that moved slowly sending shivers of heat all the way down into my groin. I didn't just want it. I Needed it. The only time I had ever had a feeling come close to this was on an island in the middle of Lake Michigan. That was when Thomas, Harry's half brother, was about to Kill me. I jerked my eyes open with that thought and forced my brain into an immediate state of awake. I was breathing heavy. The car had come to a complete stop and Butters was just staring at me wide-eyed.

The sensations had dulled, but still left me wanting to squirm in my seat. "What?" I demanded.

"You were moaning." He paused. "And, um… well. Rubbing, actually."

I glanced down and politely removed my hand from my lap.

"Or maybe just grabbing," he continued. "I was afraid to check."

The same weight from my dreams seemed to gradually press closer to me again, growing stronger. I felt another tide of erotic energy surge up around me. I found myself politely clutching at my lap again. Shit, I thought, what's happening to me? It was just a dream. "Shit," I said, "What's…" But I cut myself off with a toe-curling moan of pleasure.

"Language, young lady," Butters Chided.

I felt my soul start to fill up with something dark. And it was just too damn good. "Nuungghh, this… mmmmm…" I clutched at the door handle and stumbled out of the car in a confused panic, collapsing down onto the pavement. I couldn't form a rational thought. Somehow my subconscious had enough sense to pull out the chalk I had stowed in the pocket of Murphy's sweater and scribble a shaky circle around myself. With significant effort, I put my hand to the chalk circle and tried, but I just didn't have the will left to close it. I didn't want to. I felt the power surging up inside of me and it was like taking a hit on every drug there was all at once. This must be what an overdose feels like. I started laughing like a lunatic.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Butters approaching. I had half a mind to blast him off the asphalt, but I just couldn't be bothered right now. We were getting to the apex. But that line came to an abrupt halt when I saw him draw out the pocket knife.

"Don't even think about it," I snarled, and got ready to try my luck at unleashing something nasty before he did the same to me. The rage surged up inside of me, and that felt even better than the ecstasy I was in a few moments ago. Luckily, by the time I considered that, Butters had sliced the knife across his thumb and quickly bent down, pressing it to the street.

The world went still in an instant. I lay there panting like a dog after finishing a tough hunt.

Butters stepped back and took a quick suck on his thumb. "What. Was. That about?" Butters demanded.

"I don't- I don't know," I stammered. I tried to collect the mush of my brain into something cohesive and push the left-over tingles into oblivion. "A spell, I think," I said finally.

"Holy crap, err, crud," Butters mumbled with his thumb still in his mouth. He gave it a few more sucks then said, "Wow, I thought you were trying to play the seductress again at first and then… wow. That was crazy."

"Thanks for closing the circle," I said. "You probably saved my life. Fuck. Probably saved yours too. How'd you know how to do that?"

"Remember our little talk about language?" He grinned and paused, then indicated the chalk circle with his wounded thumb. "Harry taught me."

We reflected solemnly on that thought for a few moments. Damn Harry for having to get up and die. I don't need this right now. Hell, what I need is the exact opposite. I need Harry Dresden here. Alive. I chewed on that for a moment. Actually, that's exactly what I need. My plan just got a new twist. "Let's go," I said with a smile.

"Is it safe? You know, to step out of the circle?"

That was a good point. The spell, or whatever it was clearly wanted to pull me over to the dark side. That's not the sort of thing you want to be frivolous about.

"Only one way to find out," I said finally. "Besides, the circle broke the connection between me and the magic. Unless whoever set it off followed us this far, it should be fine. It's almost morning, anyway." I hated trying to sound like some authority on magic. I had no freaking clue. But it's not like sitting around feeling sorry for myself is going to do any good. I broke the circle with the toe of my boot, and stepped over it and into the first rays of the morning sun. Thank God for the little things.


	3. Chapter 3

When we got back to Murphy's place, I tried to get started immediately, but Butters held my arms in place while Mouse all but crawled on top of me. Some nonsense about how I'm going to be useless without rest. And Lord help him, considering I was too tied to even threaten flashing some skin at him, he was probably right. I settled down by Mouse and went out like a light.

I woke to the dull light of dusk filtering in through the windows. At some point during the day, I had moved to the couch. Judging from the rumpled blankets on the adjacent straight-backed chair, Butter's had opted not to invade the sanctity of Murphy's bedroom.

My chauffer was busy smacking the lamp nearest my head in some crazy attempt to get it to come back on. He saw I was awake and pointedly eyed my choice of sleeping attire, then turned his head in feigned disgust. "You take your coffee black?"

I stretched, grimaced in pain, and made a dismissive gesture at the lamp. "Is there any other way?"

The lamp popped and abruptly went out for good. The little man jumped back in surprise. "Holy geeze! What is it with you people?"

"A general disdain for all things modern." It felt good to pull the arcane wizard card on someone who didn't know me any better.

Butters glanced back at me with an expression of disgust that might not have been so feigned after all. "Seems pajama bottoms and underwear with a backside ought to fit right into that ancient mindset of yours."

I put on a sly smile and turned to admire my bottom. "Woman's prerogative. Even the most wizened of us appreciate the 60's." I felt a twinge of satisfaction when I saw him follow my gaze.

"Well, you just keep it up." he said while marching towards the kitchen. "I'll get used to it, and then we'll see how good it works next time you want something out of me."

Yeah, I should feel bad after all I put the poor guy through. But hey, a Lady's gotta be comfortable when she sleeps, right? A little voice suggested I was being ridiculous, trying to compensate for the fear that was threatening to consume me by exerting some small form of control. I told that little voice to shut the hell up, careful not to notice the irony of that particular compensation.

After two cups of coffee and twice as many Advil, I went to work. I pulled a pair of drumsticks out of my backpack and applied a fresh set of Power Ranger stickers down the length of each. The old ones had been charred to black nothing during my last practice session. Harry would scoff that I wasn't using runes, but without his excellent formal education, the runes meant nothing to me. Power Rangers, on the other hand, now that was something. The down side was that stickers were only good for one shot. But considering I have the artistic skills of a two year old, they would have to do. Besides, even with two sticks at the ready, I've never had the strength to get off a second blast without a good night's sleep in between. Damn Harry for not making me practice this kinda crap more.

Sometime several hours before midnight, I gathered up my things and neatly arranged them all into my backpack. I looked down at them, saw they weren't quite right, and rearranged them again. A small purse, two drumsticks, a roll of stickers, a few candles, a bag of salt, a handful of power bars, and a can of silly string. Arranging the entirety of your worldly possessions into a small backpack can really place perspective on your life.

Butters looked up from the sudoku puzzle he was working on and glanced at his watch. The poor guy looked beat. A few hours of sleep, a few days in a row can do that to you.

I picked up my broom-turned-walking-stick and looked at him. "You ready for this?" I asked.

Mouse groaned in his sleep while the Sudoku master twirled his pen with an expression of noncommittal. "So long as you keep your skirt on. Otherwise, I go back to work a day early."

I suspected he meant it. "Don't get your panties in a bunch." I grinned coyly. "That was for Monday. Today is topless Tuesday." And with that I turned to limp out the door.

o-O-o o-O-o o-O-o

Mouse, who had roused and all but insisted on coming along as we were leaving, was snoring loudly in the cramped cargo bay of the wagon. Even though we had let the back seat down, he was still spilling over into the space between the front bucket seats, his tail swaying in time with his snores. I was pounding heavily on the head-rest behind me. I imagine, to anyone passing by on the sidewalk, we sounded like one of my dad's construction crews laboring away to build a marshmallow cabin. Despite the Advil, I felt each impact shudder all the way down, keeping time with the throbbing in my leg.

Butter's put the car in park and turned to me. "Don't you think that's enough pounding yet?"

"I really don't know. Better safe than sorry." I gave it a few final slugs as I heard the engine sputter into silence.

"I'm billing you for any repairs, you know." Butter had a look of fatherly concern behind the jab. "How 'bout I just keep you company and come along for the ride?"

"No, that'll look suspicious. It's just Me. Same deal as last night, get the engine going again, and this time, stay in the freaking car!"

He narrowed his eyes down in anger and glared at me, about to argue.

"Me, badass wizard. Remember? I'll be fine. I need you here, in case we need to leave real fast like."

He sighed, or maybe huffed, and left the glare where it was.

"Please?" I finally said.

He looked away from me and eyed the building across the street. "If it looks ugly, I'm coming in there with my accordion wailing."

And with that image laughing through my head, I climbed out the door and prepared for the most difficult spell I had ever cast.

I fisted a handful of salt from a plastic baggie in my pack, and walked over to the smooth asphalt of the parking lot. The parking lot was adorned with a little structure that provided keyed access to an elevator, leading up to the air-conditioned walkway across the street below. I had no plans of using that entrance.

Crouched down with my arm extended and low to the ground, I released the salt in a steady stream while doing my best to turn in a perfect circle; using my broom handle as an anchor to my center. It was harder to do than it sounds. I took a few breaths and tried to calm myself. This needed to be perfect if it was going to work. Every little detail mattered.

I gathered my will and held it close to me. I focused my thoughts into a vision of perfect, crystal clarity. I ignored the tears streaming down from my eyes. I took a final, deep breath, and blew a stream of air across the circle of salt in front of me, breaking it, and releasing the spell as I did. I blew it out, forward, then pulled it back in around me, forming the magic with the love I had felt since I was a kid. There was nothing more I could do. I was tired, damaged, and aching. And I was about to embark on the second most idiotic thing I had ever done. But hey, the first one only got me almost killed, so that's something.

I pulled a compact out of the backpack sitting beside me and took a look. With a further effort of will, I removed the tears from the eyes staring back at me, then reached up a hand and wiped them physically away. Slinging the backpack over my shoulder and taking what was now my staff in hand, I marched across the street and stood menacingly in front to the huge glass doors and windows that opened onto the ritziest gym in town.

The place looked empty, closed down for the night, but I knew that was about to change.

Even though I should have all the powers of nature at my command, in truth, I'm a pitiful little practitioner. I was about to rely on a little ring and a little more ingenuity to scare the hell out of the scariest mortals in Chicago. I took note of the two security cameras that had locked down on me. I leveled my fist at the front doors, focused harder than I ever had, and screamed in a voice that didn't sound like my own, "Forzare!"

The effect was astounding. I only intended to huff and puff and blow the two front doors down. What actually happened was the glass on the two front doors, the two twelve-foot windows on either side, and the metal frames surrounding them all exploded into the building at the same time, leaving a gaping hole where the front of the building had stood moments ago. Little bits of debris rained down inside from the ceiling, threatening the stability of the floors standing above.

Several men came running into the scene from hallways on either side of the building and firing off rounds in my direction. I had already called up a veil and stepped out of the illusion I was holding. The effect there was that I was all but invincible, as bullets poured through the space I appeared to stand in. I brought up my drumstick and leveled it at the ground in front of the rushing men, making sure my illusion did the same.

I cried out,"Kaji!" and make it sound, to their ears, Like "Fuego!"

With another excruciating effort of will, I threw out the remaining energy I was holding back in the form of a fireball that landed just in front of them and exploded in a brilliant flash of light. To my delight, they all dove for cover, and for moments, silence again reigned in my world.

I threw the smoldering drumstick onto the ground and boomed, "Enough!" as I stepped back into the illusion and dropped the veil. For effect, I thumped the staff heavily on the ground.

"My understanding," I called out in a voice that was so familiar, yet foreign to me, "Was that I am always welcome here. Now I plan to talk to Him now, or the next blast will not be so kind as to miss.

There was only the sound of lightly crunching glass. This wasn't moving as quickly as I had hoped.

"Really, I'm a nice guy. As you can see," I said indicating the devastation around me, "I just want to talk." I let the illusion wear a confident, crooked grin, while I just about shook myself to death in fear.

A big man with short red hair came into view, crunching over what may have been the front door. He leveled his gun at me.

"Don't even consider it," I said calmly, drawing out my second drumstick and pumping enough juice down into it to send the stickers to smoking.

The big man didn't hesitate. He simply said, "right between the eyes" then squeezed the trigger on his sidearm. So much for intimidation.


	4. Chapter 4

People always joke about your life flashing before your eyes. But the only thing flashing before mine was the bright muzzle flare that lit up the dark night. Could a singe gun be that bright? The flare was followed immediately by a big boom, though "boom" doesn't really do justice to the terror that sound sent rushing through my mind. It left me frozen. Unable to move, think or react. I could just watch while the bullet traced through the air as if in slow motion. It was coming straight at me. I glanced up at the little red laser knifing through the dust above me and thought, _How pretty._

You would think a bullet pushing through your skull and the frontal lobe of your brain would be excruciating. Or else maybe it would feel like nothing at all as you simply dropped dead. But instead, the bullet's impact registered in my awareness as nothing more than a dull pressure.

I tried not to reel as it dawned on me. _Right between the eyes, _he said. Not my eyes, but the eyes he _Saw_. The illusion was more than a half foot taller than me. My gears started turning again. I had to move before he took another shot.

"That's quite enough," A voice broke through my frantic but silent hails to Mary, her Son, and half a dozen other saints. I froze. Thankfully, so did the big redhead.

I took a breath, then slowly counted backwards from three. I turned to confront the voice that had spoken, and did my best not to let the terror in my own voice taint the voice of my illusion. "Nice to see someone understands reason, Miss Guard. We'll just ignore that last little outburst and not roast Mr. Hendricks to the ground. That is, assuming we can be civil from this point on, hmm?"

Hendricks stroked a hand over his close cut, bright red hair, and stared down at the barrel of his gun in confusion. "But, how…"

"It's tough to kill a ghost," I confirmed.

The tall Valkyrie regarded me solemnly, then turned to glare over at Hendricks. "Why don't you Gentleman go about preparing the insurance paperwork. I'm sure Mr. Dresden would like to come in now and rest his bullet riddled bones."

She turned and disappeared into the hallway behind her, then into a door marked "stairs". I followed, keeping a wary eye on the redhead in case he gave it a second try and aimed lower this time.

We marched silently up the stairs.

"You might as well drop the pretense, Miss Carpenter," the woman said as we came out of the stairwell into a hallway identical to the one below. She moved with fluid grace through a doorway and disappeared into the office beyond it. "You wanted to talk, here we are talking. There, have a seat." She indicated a chair and shut the door to the office we were both standing in.

I forced my jaw not to drop slack open as I watched her graceful curves and muscles ripple and sway on the way to her desk. I remained standing. I figured it's what Harry would do.

"Come now. His jaw was sharper, his staff would have been longer, and the runes are all wrong." She sat down and smiled. "Not to mention the stickers on the drumstick." She raised her brows at that and gave me a little smirk.

Well crap. I had forgotten the second blasting rod. Damn the little details. "Yeah, well. You try making a broom stick look like a wizards staff," I huffed in reply.

"Manners, young lady. I consider you a guest here, despite the little outburst below. Don't let your rudeness make me change my mind."

I considered and let the illusion fall off me like rain. "Sorry, Ma'am."

"Please, call me Miss Guard."

I nodded and wiped at my eyes. "Sorry, Miss Guard."

"None of that even considers," she said plainly, "the fact that he's dead."

I gave up wiping my eyes at that point and just sobbed.

"It was an awful risk you took coming here like that," she continued, ignoring the snot running down my nose. "For all you know, Marcone was the one that had the trigger pulled. Had that been the case, we would have been especially inclined to finish the job properly."

I stopped mid sniffle and snapped my eyes up to hers. The hate flowed into me slowly, then building, like a fat guy riding a slip 'n slide down hill. Through the haze of my darkening vision, I saw her throwing something small and square at me. I reached out with my left hand to snatch it from the air and held out my right to melt her off the face of this earth. The air felt heavy and was laced with something sweet, like cocaine.

My fingers closed around the small wooden tile while I hissed "Kaji." I felt the heat of dark energy gather and build inside of me like a crescendo. In the same instant, my left hand flew back open and sent me spinning into the wall behind me. I blinked up at the flickering fluorescent light, and all but screamed as pain throbbed up and down my arm.

"Whhaa…" I took a few short breaths, then, "what was that!"

Guard rifled through a few papers on her desk as nothing had happened, peering down at them through her nose. After what seemed like an eternity, she peered up at me. "Do you question the pain you are feeling, or the hell you were prepared to unleash on me?"

"I uh.. I'm not sure. Are they different?" I tried to get my bearings.

"Quite different, in point of fact." She said while helping me to my feet and mostly dragging my dazzed self over to the chair.

"The later," she said returning to her desk, "was you pulling in the dark magic that's floating around, sticking to you like glue." She did something by the floor and sat down in her own chair.

I blinked and glanced around me as if I could see it.

"The former," she continued, "Was a force-rune that snapped you out of that silliness. A fairly weak force-rune, I should add."

I was beginning to think straight. It was happening again! "Chalk," I said hurriedly, "I need some chalk, it… it was in my pocket!" I got up and looked wildly around.

"Sit. Down!" Guard boomed.

I automatically complied, dropping like a rock back into the chair.

"The chair you are sitting in is enclosed by a metal ring below this carpet." Guard explained. "As would you have been, were so kind as to accept my hospitality. Now, I suggest…" she paused and narrowed her eyes, "that we do as you intended, and talk. I have much else to be concerned with tonight, thanks, in part, to you."

I sank back into the chair and into my tears. I tugged down the left sleeve of Murphy's sweater to make it even again with the right, and poured out everything that had happened over the last few days.

When I finished, we both sat in silence.

"What you should know," Guard said at last, "Is that individuals in high places have been acting against their general ideology. Many resources have confirmed the presence of Black Arts around these individuals."

I blinked. "That can't be good."

"As you say, it is not good. Both in general, and for you, specifically."

This time, I didn't blink. I didn't quite get it, but it didn't sound good.

Guard turned over a document on her desk and continued. "When conferring with the White Council over this situation, they had but one suspect that immediately came to mind."

Now I got it, and I got mad, this time without needing the influence of black magic to get me there. "That's insane! Why? Why would I? Why would I do something like that? Don't they know what I've been through?"

She folded her hands on top of her desk and regarded me solemnly. "Indeed they do. For that reason alone, if nothing else, you were the likely suspect."

I stared at her in disbelief.

"With your mentor deceased, your death warrant was all but signed. It would be no surprise that the trauma and fear pushed you over the edge."

"But it didn't!" I protested.

"Indeed, but even I didn't know until I saw the dark energy coalesce around you. That circle was as much for my protection against you as it was for your general well being."

I hung my head and stared at the floor between my feet. "So what do I do now?"

"That is for you to determine, young warrior. I can tell you two more things."

I raised my head and looked at her, desperately hoping one of them would be letting me hide here under her desk.

She looked at me with a grin, as if she could read my mind. Hell, maybe she could. "One," she said, "The council has placed a bounty on your head. It is a sizable sum to bring you in, preferably dead.

Typical. The freakin' White Council can't even be bothered to do their own dirty work.

She carried on like the first one was insignificant. "Two, whoever is responsible for working the dark arts is intentionally using you as the scapegoat."

"What? Why?"

"I honestly don't know for certain. But do you have a better explanation for the spell that was targeted at you? You indicated this wasn't the first time."

I didn't have a better one, but that didn't stop me from thinking. "So… this unknown entity does the mind mojo to swing political factions their way…"

"I assure you, it is deeper than just politics," Guard said, cutting me off.

"Whatever," I said, then added, "Ma'am."

Guard tilted her head indicating I should continue.

"So they do the mind mojo, and leave me as the fall guy. They already know I'm the likely suspect, but they don't know what sort of threat I might be."

She glanced towards the floor, probably considering the damage below. "Indeed."

I plowed on, feeling good to be thinking rather than shaking in terror. "They don't know the White Council is going to declare open season on me, so they throw some mind mojo my own way, making sure I'm reeling in the pull of dark magic by the time some warden finds me. Does that about some it up?" I leaned back in the chair and thought all of that over.

Guard leaned towards me and I tried to focus on the issue at hand, rather than down her blouse to see how much bigger hers were. "That is the equivalent of my own conclusions. I see only one other possibility, that they genuinely want you as a colleague, and merely hope to push you over the edge such that you might join them in their efforts."

I thought that over. The other possibility, that is. Not the fact that hers were, actually, quite bigger. "Really, it's a win win for them."

She replied with another, "Indeed."

"Either I get ended, and the heats off 'em for a while, or I join them, the hunt for me goes on, and they get a new happy-go-lucky playmate that has who-knows what kind of power and knowledge.."

She leaned forward more intently. "Such as the ability to provide the location of the Swords?" Her whole body seemed to tense as she waited for my response. The Swords, of course, were probably safe. As long as I didn't point anyone in the right direction, I hoped they would stay that way.

"Not a clue." I said, praying to God she couldn't actually read my thoughts. "Maybe I should go."

She didn't so much as flinch for what seemed like an eternity. I held my breath. When Harry disappeared, he was in possession of two Swords of The Cross, crafted with nails from the crucifixion. They represented an unstoppable force of good, as long as they stayed in the right hands. Outside of those hands, they could be rendered useless, according to Harry anyway. I had no idea who's side Miss Guard really was on, but I was quite certain her hands wouldn't be considered "right".

She finally leaned back, and looked up at the air in front of her, eyes glazed over. "I have no desire to take that knowledge from you, should you actually possess it. My concern is only that someone else may."

I stayed apprehensive. "I don't have them. And I don't know where they are." Technically, that was true. But in reality, I knew they were either on a boat, or else in the possession of one person in particular.

She leaned forward again, eyes settling down on me. "I cannot be certain of this outcome. I only hope what you say is true."

She looked like she was letting it go, so I started breathing again. She reached down into a drawer behind her desk and drew out a small, silk bag. "There is one other thing I can do for you."

I watched as she slowly untied the two knotted strings holding the bag closed, and carefully poured out several small tiles. Each tile bore a rune or symbol of some sort etched directly onto the wood. "Are those what nearly took my arm off?"

"Indeed, only quite a bit more enthusiastic." She flipped a few so they were all rune-side up. "Come closer, I will show you how the magic is worked."

We spent a few minutes while she showed me how to hold and rub the little things to prepare for their detonation. It was amazing to think an archaic looking scrabble tile could level a person. I took careful note of which rune shape represented what, and she made me close my eyes and run my fingers across them to recite what each would do. The whole process left me feeling like a teenager again, struggling through my first lessons in magic. We finished after several minutes, though it seemed like it had been hours.

I pulled the strings tight, and slid the bag containing a handful of the runes down into the pocket of Murphy's sweater. I stood and readied to go, then turned back to the woman thoughtfully. "I thought looking like Harry would scare everyone into submission. But you didn't buy it. After what I did down there, why are you helping me?"

She straightened the pile of documents on her desk and looked at me squarely. "Let's just assume I have a certain empathy towards your situation. But I would encourage you not to... shove your luck, as you say."

I had to smile at that. "It's push your luck, and I'll be doing plenty of it. Just not around here." I considered the previous evening for a moment, then added, "Assuming no more goons show up at my folks place."

She smiled back at me. "As you, we only wished to talk. Be grateful our methods are somewhat more... subtle."

I pulled up a veil, hiding my broad grin, and turned to leave. "What can I say," I called back over my shoulder, "I learned from the best."

As I made my way carefully through the wreckage below, I pushed out my mojo and found what I suspected; about forty feet above me, beyond the cold jets of water still pouring down from flashing fire trucks into the damaged building, beyond the angry aura of workers making phone calls on the second floor, sat a writhing cloud of Dark Energy. As if gifted with some sense of awareness, it reached down to touch me the moment I touched it. I staggered towards Butters' car.


	5. Chapter 5

I struggled against the clouds of anger and ecstasy that swirled inside of me. I ground my teeth and sank to one knee. I imagined a circle this time, forming just around me, guided by the bottom hem of my skirt. I made an effort of will and snapped the circle closed. The rush subsided to a dull ache.

Butters was at my side. He put an arm around my back and under my shoulder, breaking the circle I had so delicately created. But the black energy didn't immediately rush back in.

"Oh God," I panted. There was only one way a spell like that could keep finding me.

Butters was shoving me into the passenger seat of the car.

I was numb but trying to help. "They have something of mine."

Butters slammed the door and hurried around to the other side.

"Or worse, some part of me," I said, maybe to Mouse.

Butters climbed in and threw the car into Drive. I heard a pop, quiet like a cough, just preceding the small holes shattering the side windows on both sides of the car.

The car lurched forward and the window just above mouse exploded in another spray of shattered safety glass.

"Go go gadget wheels," Butters mumbled under his breath as he wheeled out into the middle of the street and sped off down the road. There were two metallic clinks and the sound of glass shattering once more. The back of the car pitched drunkenly to the side.

I had no idea what was going on. "What's happening?

Butters was breaking, turning a corner and sending the car into a wild fishtail. He struggled, recovering control. "Big red head. You popped up. By the car. He pushed a fireman." His voice was clipped, speaking out in short bursts between terrified breaths. "I started running. Him too. He had a gun."

Oh, right. I was holding a veil so they wouldn't see me and kill me on the way down. Miss Guard gave a pass to Harry Dresden. She had done no such thing for Molly Carpenter.

Butters frantic state helped me calm my own. "He probably just wanted to talk," I said, sounding like I was trying to soothe a terrified child.

He took his eyes off the road for a second to glance at me in sarcasm or anger, or maybe both. "You think?"

The rear of the car pitched again, threatening to lose control. Mouse groaned, shifting and squirming so that his head, rather than his tail, was poking through between the bucket seats. He shot a bored look over at Butters, then shifted it towards me, sighing as he did.

I got back on track, trying to calm him down so he didn't get us killed. "Well, none of the shots actually hit us, did they?"

"Hit the back tire and damn near every window! I don't know, I'm in shock. I think I might be bleeding out!"

Mouse looked back over at him and woofed. I rolled my eyes.

"You're fine," I said.

Butters drove like a lunatic for several more blocks while I opened up my sight.

A wizard's sight is like a third eye, only it's an eye that's blind to everything except the forces of magic at work. Harry says that it shows things the way they really are. All I know is using it scares the hell out of me. The bad thing, see, is that whatever you see stays with you for the rest of your life, no matter how beautiful or terrifying it is, the visions remain in perfect clarity, just as crisp as the first time you looked at it. And believe it or not, there are a lot more ugly, disturbing, terrifying things in Chicago than there are beautiful ones.

I looked down at mouse. Whenever possible, I always try to make him the first thing I see when using my sight. He appears, not as a dog, but as the radiant image of a divine knight; exuding raw strength, confidence, and loyalty. With him at my side, it seems possible to face anything. Sir Mouse grinned and met my gaze dead on, nodding his head in acknowledgment. I let my gaze fall on Butters. To my surprise, he appeared mostly as himself, only four times his size. His left arm and side was spilling out the door of the car and his head and shoulders were poking through the roof. I lingered on that for a while, then reluctantly turned my gaze toward the direction of Marcone's gym and the destruction we had left behind. After a few moments, gazing past the dark presence of the buildings towering several hundreds of feet above their actual height, I saw what I was looking for; the dark cloud of energy that was pursuing us, or rather, pursuing me, specifically.

What I saw in that cloud, exactly, is hard to describe. If you imagine all of the hate and anger in the world, and mix it in with the lust and perversion of every murderer, rapist, and pedophile that has ever lived, then try to give it a face – it would be something like that. Only much worse.

Through the confusion and disorientation that usually accompanies using my sight, I could feel myself shaking, in danger of falling apart. I tore my sight away from that hideous image and settled back on mouse, drawing comfort from the calm presence. From the corner of my eye, I saw a flash of light surrounding the huge blackness that was gunning for me. It seemed almost insignificant in comparison, but it appeared to be putting up a fight. Was Guard defending me? It didn't matter. We were gaining distance, leaving it behind. I closed my sight, and leaned back, relieved.

I put the tips of my fingers on the space beside each of my eyes and rubbed, trying to smooth back the headache that was threatening for control.

I thought hard. Or maybe I was just straining while hardly thinking. It's hard to say, what with the bare metal of the tire-rim scraping along and sounding like the hull of the Titanic being torn in half. At least the car was still moving, and Butters looked like he wasn't going to change that anytime soon.

I had probably never been at more of a loss before in my life. My entire body was aching, a spell straight from Satan's whorehouse was after me, and it turned out my best chance for figuring out what was going on just wanted "to talk."

"Lead" was Harry's P.I. lingo for "a vague idea of what to do next." And a lead was exactly what I needed. Unfortunately, I had zippo. I sighed. I figure the closest I'll ever come to being good at this kinda stuff is getting gum stuck on the bottom of my boot.

I checked my boot, just in case, and came up empty.

I wondered what Harry would do. He'd probably just think of something. Pour over everything he knew, and come up with the next step. The problem was, everything I knew led me to Marcone, and I had just left there with nothing more than a few hand grenades and a sympathetic pat on the back. The only other thing I had was the black magic. It wasn't like I could just follow it back to its master.

I chewed on that thought for a moment, while biting my nails. Could I actually follow it back?

I thought back to my first awareness of the spell – how it mixed blissful ecstasy and seething rage, melding it into one strong pull of seduction. I remembered how the emotions it had stirred brought me to that night, when Harry's half-brother, Thomas, had nearly ended me. Thomas was a white court vampire, one of those who fed off the emotions of others, in particular, Passion and Lust. They have a natural mental acuity towards bringing those emotions out of their prey; leaving them helpless and simply delighted that they're the main course for dinner. When Thomas had turned his seductive gaze to me, he had been tortured and was simply out of control. If he hadn't been stopped, there is no doubt in my mind I would have died that night, enjoying every minute of it thoroughly – just as thoroughly as I would have enjoyed going over to the dark side last night.

I pushed the image of Darth Vader out of my mind and thought some more. Maybe it wasn't just coincidence that the black magic stirred memories of nearly being devoured by a vampire of the White Court. That could be something. But damn that's a scary thought. A White Court Sorceress.

I turned, looking over at Butters. "You back in the driver's seat, yet?" I said to him.

"Not even close," he replied. His voice came out shaky.

I eyed his white knuckles and the general tension that held his entire body rigid. "That may be for the best, because you're not gonna like what's coming next."

Butters looked over at me and his eyes, if possible, opened wider in terror.

I punched him lightly in the arm. "Don't be a pansy. And cheer up, cause I'm about to take you to the hottest, most exclusive club in town."

That idea was almost too scary to even bother with a plan.


	6. Chapter 6

II.

The thing about not having much of a plan is, you don't get too upset when it all goes to hell. Not moments after I suggested to Butters that he was acting less than masculine, he had to notice the blood stain on the sleeve of his white shirt. Ok, so trying to save my life, he had gotten nicked by a stray bullet. Big deal. It just grazed him, doing so much damage that maybe a dab of Neosporin and a Band-Aid would have fixed it right up. But no. The medical examiner, who has no problems looking at gore and goo and gross splayed all over bodies that don't belong to him, seems to get a little queasy when it's his own blood.

And when I say queasy, what I mean is that, while screeching down the road at 50 miles an hour in a car that is barely under control, Butters promptly passed out. After driving through a sidewalk, a few trash cans and a news stand, we hit something solid and I ended up sharing the front seat with Mouse. It's not as comfy as you would think.

I looked at Mouse. His backside looked at me. It's not his most attractive end, and I sincerely hoped that was not what my face had used to absorb the impact from the crash. His head and upper body was sticking through the space that once held the front windshield. Butters' was more or less facing me; his legs straddling the steering wheel, his feet dangling above the seat, while the rest of him sat on the dashboard. He was also poking up through the missing windshield. With one hand, he stroked Mouse between the ears, with the other, he gently rubbed his own head. I still have no idea how they ended up like that. Mouse looked down at me and let out a happy woof, giving me a look that said, I told you I should come along. I tried to roll my eyes and did my best to shuck him off me. That was as hard as it sounds, especially considering my brain just wasn't working yet.

The next several minutes were a dazed confusion of staggers that led down one alley, and up another. Sirens roared in my ears the whole time. Butters carried my pack and a small bag of his own. Mouse kept nudging me impatiently from behind. I was apparently the only one that didn't see the benefit of getting out of sight quickly. In retrospect, it's odd that after all I had been through the past few weeks, a car wreck was the first thing to send me into shock. At least it seemed to snap Butters out of his.

Once my head cleared, we made good time. I pulled a little magic out of my hat and used a shortcut through the never-never. We came out a few blocks away from the club we were heading towards when everything went sideways. Traveling through an alternate dimension like the never-never also had the added benefit of leaving a certain dark spell with no person to physically track, effectively breaking it's link with me. Even though the trip literally took several hours, a quick check revealed that only a few minutes had passed in good ole Chicago. I'll leave it at saying we came back into Chicago feeling slightly more rested, and completely famished. I thought of the powerbars that had been in my bag in envy. Still, how many people can say they went to the never-never and bartered safe passage with five powerbars? Not many, I suspect.

Mouse, Butters, and I formed a small circle (or, a triangle, I guess) to discuss our options. It was immediately agreed that walking into what is essentially the largest harem of vampires in Chicago was a dumb idea.

"Which is exactly why you're going to do it, isn't it?" Butters said.

I scrunched up my face and put my hands on my head, trying to rub away the pain. "No, I'm going to do it because it's the only option that doesn't involve us staying out here falling asleep, waiting for something that might not happen."

"That's why we sleep in shifts."

"And what, you hold up my veil while I sleep?"

Mouse's head bobbed back and forth between us.

Butters took his turn putting his head in his hands. "We wait here for your lady to come out, we deal with her and a few vampires. We go in there, we deal with all of them. And like you said, at the very least, I die."

I put my hands on my hips and tried to look like my mom when she told me to clean my room. "Which is why you stay out here with Mouse watching your back."

Butters crossed his arms and put on a frowning scowl. "So you go in there and die alone?"

"Hey, it worked last time."

He laughed out loud and I had to make sure to bump up the sound cancellation of the veil. "Hah! I saw you almost get shot!"

I waved him off. "Meh, all part of the devious plan."

"You go in, we all go in." Butters held up a finger in my face while he spoke. That really bugs me off, but seeing mouse stomping his front paws and chuffing in agreement made me soften.

I let my shoulders hang a little in defeat. "Fine, mouse comes with me, but you gotta stay out here."

Butters started shaking his head and opened his mouth but I cut him off, "No, I can't be worried about you in there. If you're there, I will be. And THAT will get me killed. Mouse can hold his own, and I can just disappear, but you will get eaten alive before you have time to realize it."

Butters rocked back a bit and his scowl deepened. I had him on the run, so time to close the deal.

"You stay put and hidden down some alley. If you do that, then I won't have to worry about needing to drag my wizardly ass out of the moment to come save yours. Agreed?"

He studied the ground on his left, looking over his shoulder. "Fine. If you take mouse, I'll make like one and scurry into a hole. But I'm coming out of it if you're not back in ten minutes."

I grinned. "Give me twelve." Then looking down at Mouse, I asked, "Got anything to add?"

Mouse tilted his head to one side, then the other, then sat down on his hind legs and glared from Butters to me. _This is a bad idea, and you know it,_ he seemed to say. But I pretended like he meant he was ready to go.

Butters remained silent, probably thinking this would be the last time he saw me, and good riddance at that. I steeled myself and repeated the illusion spell I had crafted earlier that night, hoping the second time would be the charm. I extended the illusion to cover Mouse's injuries and made him just a little more fierce than normal. Mouse pawed impatiently at the ground and looked back at Butters who was now twenty feet down the road. He rolled his eyes and gave a hesitant thumbs up, while mouse and I turned to walk to our demise. Shock and awe, take two. Only this time focusing less on the shock, and more so on the awe.

o-O-o

Walking into the club was both disorienting and disturbing. Beautifully muscled, half-naked bodies of vampires writhed and slouched everywhere in time to a beat that was almost techno, almost random noise. Without them even trying, I could feel the power of their sensuality claw at me. Multicolored lights flashed and throbbed off their pale flesh and actually rivaled some of my best light shows. I had to consciously remind myself that stripping naked and running through the crowd giggling was a bad idea, even if I couldn't quite remember why.

Numbering twice that of the vampires were even nakeder, empty-eyed thralls that, I supposed, served as snacks. Most were staring vacantly at nothing, while others squirmed in pleasure in the arms of one of their sex gods, toying with little bits of flesh. I shivered, remembering the feel of the black spell that had been haunting me, and tried to make that feeling ground me.

I only had to walk up to the bouncer, who was a mortal security guard, and cross my arms. His eyes were wide as they looked me up and down while I approached. I got a clipped, "Wait here," as he disappeared into the crowd behind him.

He was equally brief when he returned. "She will see you now, Mr. Dresden. You have her word on your safe passage. This way."

I glanced down and gave Mouse a last tentative look, _Are you sure?_

He looked back up at me. _ Do I have a choice now?_

_No. _

_Ok. Let's go._

Mouse kept up a low growl as we trailed behind our escort, and the crowd parted in our wake. It could have just been my imagination, but I thought the music was getting quieter. By the time we reached the table of Lara Raith, secret head of the White Court of vampires, every eye in the place was on us. Even, I noted, the eyes of the thralls.

"What a surprised pleasure to see you, Harry," the voice purred from the direction of Laura, but I hadn't even seen her mouth moving. "And here I thought you were dead."

I leaned slightly towards my staff, trying to look relaxed. "We're going to have a talk about that. But later," I said.

"Oooohhh," Lara purred, "But I want to talk now, hmmm." She put on a brief pout, then replaced it quickly with a broad, wicked grin. I felt the power of her seduction come over me.

I took a moment to consider the feel of it, before consciously resisting. It felt good, and evil. Definitely evil. But not the same darkness as the spell. So it wasn't Lara Raith, directly, anyway.

"So sorry to disappoint, Darling," I managed to spit out in Harry's voice, trying to ignore the growing heat and tingles coming from down below. "I'm here to discuss other matters. Someone close to me coming under the influence of…." I gasped and leaned into the staff a little more"…Yep, something just about like that."

Lara laughed in apparent delight. Even looking like bad-ass Harry, no one ever seems to take me seriously.

Mouse suddenly intensified the volume and pitch of his growl. I turned in the direction he was facing in time to see the person, or thing, that was swiftly gliding towards me. I repressed the urge to do myself, and quickly drew out my drumstick, now carefully disguised as a respectable blasting rod. I held it straight and steady out at my side, bearing down on the ghastly vampire. The creature came to an abrupt halt.

"It's been a bad month," I said, "and I'd just as soon take out this side of the building at once than I would waste my time dropping any one of you in particular." I scanned my illusions' eyes across the room threateningly, while I literally shook in my boots.

Lara stared maliciously at the vampire, surprise drawn across her face. Interesting, she hadn't approved the little ambush. That was something. She stood up and everyone took a step back. I almost did too. She let her gaze fall on me and poured the charm back into her voice. "There's no need for such hostility, Mister, ah… I see." A thin smile spread across her lips, while this time, I actually did stagger back.

A Soul Gaze with a vampire is something you don't encounter lightly.


	7. Chapter 7

I had been lost in the moment, terrified my bluff would be called, and stupid enough to glance over and lock eyes with Lara-Freakin-Raith to see if she was still buying it. Even though I should have been protected by the illusion, the predator in her somehow knew where I really was. Sometimes life just isn't fair. It was a rookie mistake. One I might not live through to look back on.

Looking into the soul of Lara Raith was like entering into the depths of hell. Only hell had suddenly become ten times more hideous and devastating than even Satan could handle. It appeared as a great cavern of fire, filled with everything hideous and cruel. By some instinct, I knew this was no cavern, but the stomach of a hideous evil. A small child sat in what was about the center of the enormous space, surrounded by devices of torture and terror. I watched while she played gleefully with little balls of fire, until the balls grew larger, and the glee was replaced by terror. I watched her writhe in agony and slowly get burned into dust. I saw it happen thousands of times, each time the glee ending more abruptly. Less than a fraction of a second had passed by as the soul gaze started to recede.

I was trapped, revealed, and probably about to get the life sucked right out of me. Literally. Because for whatever Lara Raith saw in my soul, it definitely wasn't Harry Dresden. But Harry only trained a mostly incompetent apprentice, not a completely incompetent one. I had a different kind of power at my disposal. Knowledge. I knew that Laura Raith was the puppet master behind her father's continued leadership of the White Court. I knew that public awareness of that little tidbit would launch the White's into a civil war, crushing the cushy life Laura enjoyed. That, and I had a natural aptitude at fucking with people's minds. In the moments before the link formed by the Soul gaze was broken, I gathered up and shoved all that I knew about Laura Raith back at her.

Her eyes went wide and she paused for half a beat. "Well then, Mister Dresden. I suppose we all know a thing or two about keeping up pretense. Considering our relationship in the past, we might as well continue feigning civility."

I hate it when people use big words like 'feigning'. I always have to go find a dictionary. But at least, after that, I get to use them too. I thought she was dangling Thomas, Harry's half brother, at me. Very few people knew that Harry was related to a vampire of the White Court. Lara was one of them, and it was the leverage she used to make sure Harry kept his mouth shut about her own little secret.

"He means nothing to me," I said confidently.

"True, but you remember the previous arrangement, in any case. I'll assume that means, for the immediate future, you see the benefit of continuing that arrangement."

My eyebrows went up, taking note of her choice of the word 'immediate.'

She noted my note, and said, "Yes, see, your situation seems…" she began pouring on the sexual charm. "… Temporary. While mine is somewhat more… I guess we would say, Permanent.

I reeled. The influence was more powerful than before, maybe because she now knew my gender. It was all I could do to keep up the illusion. I heard Mouse let out a more ferocious growl, just before he bodily left the ground, flying straight at her. He can be scary.

Lara caught Mouse mid flight and tossed him behind her several dozen feet.

But the action must have demanded her attention as her influence over me eased. I took that as my cue. I gathered my will and muttered "Kamikaze." I sent the rune I had secreted in my palm straight at the table beside Lara with the strongest burst of wind I could manage, and completely covered by a veil. I had preceded the motion with an effort of will that sent dazzling light around the periphery of the club. That way no one would pay too much attention to Mouse as he tore them limb from limb. I just managed to get out a string of gibberish (and this time it really was just gibberish) and raise my left hand for effect when the rune blew. Lara's entire right half suddenly went up in flames and the blast knocked everyone nearby, including myself, a good few feet back onto the floor.

I had to act quickly, before anyone recovered from the shock. "Don't move!" I hissed, pointing the drumstick at the thickening crowd of vampires. They didn't. Mouse came trotting drunkenly back over to my side.

"If I recall our previous arrangement correctly," I said turning to Lara, who was pulling herself up from the floor and growling almost as loudly as Mouse. "it was something along the line of 'you stay out of my way, and I won't blow you to smithereens." I let my own anger seethe through into the illusion. I resisted the urge to fortify my resolve with the dark power that I knew was within my reach. Boy it was tempting. "For whatever else may have changed since then, that simple fact hasn't. Consider that," I said, indicating the spot where the table had been, "as your final warning."

The flesh had literally been seared from the limbs on her left half, leaving bits of charred muscle and skin behind. I was worried she might suddenly be too hungry to feel the apprehension she ought to be experiencing right about now. You can't really bluff a crazy person into submission.

She came at me with inhuman speed. I nudged mouse indicating _run, _reached into my pocket and pulled out two runes, then dropped them straight down at my feet, timing it, hopefully, so one would hit the ground a split second before the other. I hoped I had enough sense to remember which one was which.

The first impact hit the waxed concrete floor as her arms were closing around me. The most incredible burst of kinetic energy I had ever felt propelled me straight up into the air. The second impact left Laura entirely consumed in a ball of flame much like the table had been in moments before.

It must have been an incredible thing to look at: Harry Dresden sailing up into the air, followed and partially surrounded by a plume of smoke and fire, seemingly untouched –While the daughter to the King of the White Court followed slightly behind, arching out to the side, entirely surrounded by smoke and fire, and very much touched.

The only thing I hadn't considered was coming back down. I poured everything I had into throwing up a veil and sending the illusion of Harry floating back down to the ground. I tried to call up a cushion of wind to soften my landing but had little success as I landed on (and collapsed) another table. The illusion flickered briefly, but I kept my wits enough the keep the magic pumping.

I rolled off the table, then hurried back into the image of Harry Dresden. I steadied and dropped the veil, letting the illusion conceal me once more. "Anyone else?" I boomed.

The place had nearly cleared and there was a clean path to the door. No one seemed interested in getting between it and me. I stormed out from the flames gathering behind me and tried not to notice the charred contortion of flesh that was obscenely devouring a thrall. When this was over, Lara was gonna be major pissed.

Butters was there when I stepped outside, holding his bag over his head like a flail, looking like he was debating coming in, and shaking in terror at the thought.

"This way!" I snapped. And we marched down the street and away from the hottest party in town.

A few moments later, I realized we were not so much marching, but rather, Butters was marching and more or less dragging me along. I was drained. At least Mouse seemed to be feeling pretty well. "Keep going, I need a few."

I considered my evening as we moved on, while doing my best to help Butters keep me going. So far, I've been nearly killed at least twice, I've made certain a few powerful figures have a good reason to hold a long-term personal grudge, and, judging from the distant sounds of sirens, I may have managed to burn at least one building to the ground. And that's not even considering that just about everything I've done has been a complete disaster. I'd say my illusion of Harry Dresden has reached perfection.

A couple of dozen blocks later, and around the corner in an alley, I pulled away from Butters and sank to the ground, dropping the illusion as I did. With a breath, I mumbled "Meinaini" and pulled a veil up around us. It was exhausting work and almost failed. I had never before used so much magic and sustained it for so long. I nearly lost consciousness for the effort.

"I take it the talk didn't go well?" Butters asked.

I ignored him and inspected the state of my wardrobe. The bottoms of my knee-high combat boots had mostly melted and the sides were warped and blistered from the heat. That really pissed me off. The sole of one boot was flopping uselessly, mostly separated from the rest of the shoe. At least my legs seemed to have been spared from the worst, though the hem of my skirt had singed to a few inches above my soot-covered knees. I pulled the boots off and wiggled my toes, relieved to see the little piggies had not turned to roast beef.

Butters regarded the bareness of my feet. "Bad day not to wear socks?"

I socked him in the thigh. "There _is_ no good day to wear socks."

He rubbed his thigh and sank back against the wall beside me. "So what now, oh wizened one?"

The joke brought a smile to my face. "The name fits right now more than you might think, sidekick."

Mouse let out a snort, and, I swear to God, rolled his eyes.

"Now," I said with a dramatic pause, "we wait."

The wait lasted all of maybe five seconds before we saw a figure glide effortlessly around the corner and past our hiding place.

"Let's move!" I hissed, and began pulling Mouse and Butters towards the alley's entrance that we had just come through. The pain I experienced with that effort almost made me cry out and lose concentration on the only thing that was keeping us from getting eaten alive. But with Butter's help I soldiered on, careful to avoid any sharp obstacles along the way. We made our way across the street and waited, veiled under a broken streetlamp.

"What's happening?" Butter's whispered as we watched the two vampires meet half-way down the alley. They began walking back the way they had come, looking carefully and prodding into every dark nook.

"That one that went past us," I indicated, "saw us go into the alley. The other one didn't see us go out the other side."

The look Butters gave me said _'I don't follow, but you're cute, so I'll play along.'_

I gave an overly exasperated sigh. "Even if Laura knew anything about who was after me, It's not like I thought she would just come out with it. Especially not if she was the one responsible." Ok, I had hoped Lara would give me something, but Butters didn't need to know that.

I got a look from mouse that was similar to the one I was still getting from my valiant chauffer. Minus the cute part.

"Look. The spell that came at me had White Court written all over it. The plan was for me to go in there, attract their attention, and get Whoever to follow me out to finish what they started."

The look morphed into a cross between amusement and terror. "With all the authority of Polka behind me," Butters started, "I feel it safe to say there is a fairly thin line between those who are wise, and those who are just plain on-their-ass crazy."

Mouse huffed in agreement.

I sighed daintily and leaned heavily against the pole. "Language, my dear."

"Speaking with the authority of Polka, darling, grants some liberties."

Mouse seemed to agree with that, too. He limped up to Butters and nuzzled his head under his hand.

I was preparing my next attempt at a witty comeback when Butters cut me off. "I know I'm a little slow catching up to your oh-so-daft plans, dude, but I suppose you had hoped to maybe follow those creatures after they gave up looking for you?"

Oops. The vampires were currently walking around a corner with my devastated boots in hand. Undoubtedly to report back to whoever was pulling the strings, and I hadn't even noticed them going. Nice one, rookie.

"They've got your boots. So they likely know you were you, and not Harry. More of the plan, I take it?"

"A last minute adjustment, actually," I said, holding up a shoe lace and dropping the veil, both exhausted and relieved. "Plan A was to follow them like the invisible man."

I went straight to preparing the tracking spell. By which, I mean I collapsed onto the ground, and nearly passed out.


	8. Chapter 8

Mouse nudged me slightly, the way he might poke at a dead rat. My head was pounding and I knew I needed to rest. But I just couldn't take the chance these vampire goons would meet up with their leader in some car down the road, show my boots as evidence of the deception, and toss my babies on the side of the road. That last thought got me moving again. I slowly picked myself off the ground and formed a circles in the dust and dirt that clung to the sidewalk like grease on a pizza.

I went through the ritual I've watched Harry do so many times. I felt close to him, like I hadn't felt in weeks. Instead of sapping more of my precious reserves like I knew the spell should, the familiarity of the motions, their cool fluidity, and the act of willing the spell into existence seemed to leave me fresher, more confident, and very much alive. That last one seemed important; especially considering the Forces That Be appeared to be conspiring to make certain I dropped dead.

And here I was, for the third time tonight, about to go looking for them again. Butters might be right, there's a chance I have gone insane.

I finished tying the shoe-lace around my finger and padded off in the direction of its gentle tug. We flagged down the first cab we came to, and after much argument about whether or not mouse really was a service dog, the cabbie drove off to the instructions of "That way."

"Next time, I go wiff 'No shoe. no service.'" The man muttered in thickly accented English. I smiled and settled into the front seat, smoothing my skirt over the bottom of my dirty thighs.

"Hmmm," I said, letting the inflection of my voice turn up at the end. "I see your mouth moving, but with my translator in the back seat, I can't possibly see him sign to know what you're saying. Turn Right up ahead."

The cabbie grunted and complied. After some time, and thankfully before he got completely fed up with us, we arrived amid a collection of warehouses near a waterfront. The lace ends were pulling more heavily to one side, so I knew we had to be close. I looked around trying to get my bearings. We had been driving nearly an hour and I lost track of where we were, what with my focus completely on the string. It didn't look like Chicago anymore, but that didn't mean much.

"Maybe Kansas?" Butters offered, reading my mind. He blinked at me blearily like he just woke up.

Most of the money I had in this world left my backpack and was transferred to the cabbie beside me. We piled and sagged out of the cab.

Butteres rifled through his wallet. "I'd offer to split that with you, but I've only got twelve bucks."

I rolled my eyes. "Save the chauvinism. We've still got some walking to do and my broomsticks probably still smoking back at the vamp's party place. I'll let you make it up to me on the way."

Mouse used his head to nudge me firmly on my backside.

I turned to glare at him. "Knock it off, you're more than welcome to take part in dragging me along too." But I froze when I saw the tension in his body and heard the barely audible growl. Butters and I both instinctively hit the ground, unsure of what was happening.

There was a sharp hiss about five feet away. I followed the sound through the darkness and saw the outline of what appeared to be a fat, black cat sitting in the middle of the road. Mouse wimpered, and pulled back a little more, making sure all his fangs were visible.

I let out a sigh of relief and Butters rolled his eyes. "You've got to be kidding me," he said. "That monster is scared of a cat?"

"Conditioning." I smiled, turning to the cowering beast. "I promise not to tell anyone about this, but if you don't suck it up right now, I'm gonna shout about it from every porch I ever see."

Mouse reluctantly pulled his eyes away from the cat, who was licking something obscene, and glared at me. He let out a single "woof" and sauntered down the road, careful to give the cat a wide birth. By which, I mean he clung to the fence that ran along the curb, trying to will himself onto the other side of it. I let out a silent curse whishing I hadn't left Murphy's flip-flops back at her place, and followed after him, with Butters at my side.

We went up the road, turned along another, then went back down another one in the direction we came from. The thing about tracking spells is, they have no concept of roads. They just point you in the general direction. Which is great if you're a bird. Not so much so if you're an aspiring young wizard who needs to spend the night in a room with a saline drip and enough narcotics to knock out a horse.

I mean to say that, getting to the warehouse we were currently crouching behind, had not been a pleasant experience. We had to stop every few hundred yards. Once for Butters to change the bandage on my leg so that blood would stop dripping down onto my toes. The rest of them just so I could rest and collect my facilities.

Worse, I needed to use the facilities. But the problem with warehouse districts is they are just streets, fences, buildings, and trash. Not exactly the sort of place you want to squat and relieve yourself in. Especially not in the presence of a dog and some guy you barely know. So I sucked it up and held it. Mouse was kind enough to rub it in, as he lifted a leg on every corner. Butter's eyed him angrily a few times, so I suspected, at least, I had a companion in my suffering. If I were him, I would definitely screw it and go. Guys don't realize how easy they have it.

Butters turned and whispered to me. "Any ideas?"

I pointed towards the fire escape, leading up to the second story of the building. "We take a look up there."

At the top of the stairs, my heros hunkered down while I leaned against the door and concentrated on my spell. It had been Harry's idea. I use magic to bend light and snuff out sound, among other things, when I create a veil. What I was doing now was taking the same approach, only inverting it. Instead of trying to shield myself from something, I was trying to shield the door from me. I pulled the light from the other side through the door, and slowly willed it to coalesce back in front of me, making the door all but transparent. That effort alone was too great to try for any sounds.

What we saw left us all with mouths open. The door opened onto a maintenance catwalk that stretched around the perimeter of the enormous, two-story room. There was a smaller office built into the corner of the space below us. The cement floor of the main area was decorated with a sizable circle that enclosed a large, five-pointed star. The top point of the star faced south, instead of north as I would have arranged it, and on each point sat an alter, each covered in a sticky-looking crust I'd rather not think about. There was a pile of still bodies at one corner of the warehouse, near the front entrance, and a collection of tied, moving bodies at the opposite corner. Even from this distance, they all seemed to wear an expression of Terror.

"Intense," Butters mumbled. Mouse let out another low growl, this time filled with what sounded like rage, rather than the fear he expressed earlier.

I pulled my gaze away from the scene and focused on the three forms standing near the rear office door. I pumped more juice into the effort and drew the image of them closer to us, using the door like a movie screen. Two of them, I recognized from the alley. One was still holding my boots. The third, while clearly a White Court vampire judging by her flawless skin, silky hair, and cold, empty grey eyes, was simply the ugliest person I had ever seen. And she looked pissed.

"Who. is that?" Butters hissed, taking a step back.

"If I had to guess, I'd say the boss." I released the anti-veil and sank back into the railing.

He looked over at me. "One tough looking lady."

"No kidding, that arrangement stage center," I said, "looks designed to fuel magic with some pretty nasty ritual. If we're lucky, ritual magic is all she's got.

I tried not to think about that anymore and imagined instead the conversation the trio was having below.

"_I send you to bring me the girl and all you bring are shoes?"_

"_Oh not just any shoes, most ugly one. Her shoes!"_

"_Let me see those. What's this? They stink!"_

"_Yes your most magnificent witchiness. We suspect she did not wear any socks!"_

"_Fine then, I shall use the smell to end you!"_

"_But my liege! Waste not such stink on me, when you could use it to fuel the ritual of your devious plan!"_

"_How many times? This one is diabolical! The devious plan was last week! But hmmm… you have a point. This smell is strong… I will smother her in her own foul stench! Begone then!"_

I should really consider wearing socks.

Butters snapped me out of my reverie. "I suppose you're forming a plan?"

I looked at him. "A diabolical one."

Mouse raised his head and turned towards me with what might have been hope.

"I take it you mean absolutely insane?"

Mouse put his head back down, figuring the guy was probably right. I thought for a minute.

"Actually, I've got nothing," I finally offered.

"Well it's five thirty-something in the morning, how 'bout we go home and come back tomorrow?" he suggested.

I turned to regard him seriously. "Polka doesn't die, and it doesn't go crawling home just because it lacks something small like a plan. Besides, it's now or never. Tommorow, they could be gone. I could be dead. And you have to go to work."

"I could take a sick day?"

He's a funny little guy, I'll give him that.

"That only accounts for one of the three. Got any ideas on the other two?"

"OK." He looked resigned. "I guess we think of something now then."

"Right, and I'm gonna need your help this time, so no whining about wanting to stay in the car again."

I cut Butters protest off before he got started. "You're on the clock, so shoot. What are our options?"

He rubbed a patch of stubble forming on his chin and eyed me like a reproachful child. "Well, we either go in there, rescue people and kill vampires. Or we go in there, kill vampires and rescue people."

Mouse rolled his entire head this time. I pulled myself up and put a hand on my hip. "Great, I love simplicity. I've got a better idea, let's do 'em both at the same time. We'll flip a coin for who gets what." I grinned.

Butters glare shifted to one of an angry, reproachful child. "I haven't heard anything better from you." He pushed his glasses up further on his nose.

"OK. I agree with option one. Getting those people out should be priority numero uno. For that, we need a distraction. It just so happens, you're in the presence of a distractions specialist. So here's what were going to do."

We conferred quickly and quietly, with me doing my best to defer any objections to Mouse, who did his best to huff and snort his disapproval at everything I said. I finished with, "And that's what's gonna happen," hoping the finality of my tone ended the argument.

"You sure you don't want my shoes?" Butters asked for a second, or maybe third time. "You might need them more than me."

I stomped my foot down, grimaced at the pain, and put both hands on my hips. "Are you suggesting I have big feet?" I demanded.

"Uhhh…no, I… umm…"

"Nevermind, they'd just slow me down. I do this Bruce Willis style."

He looked around nervously. "Besides," I said, "I can tell you're already getting cold feet." I grinned at my cleverness.

"It's just that, man, don't you think we ought to stick together?"

Here we go. "Nonsense, you're just being chicken. I'm a little girl and I'm calling you a chicken."

He looked like he gave a second thought towards pointing out I wasn't so little, and scrunched up his face instead. "Am not."

It's true, I stood a foot taller than him, but I felt very, very small. I took my own advice and sucked it up. "What does polka do?"

A look of determination settled in. "Never die!" he whispered fiercely.

I tried not to crack up at his war cry. Fearless leaders don't start giggling when their soldiers gather their resolve. At least not in front of them. But damn, no matter how many times Harry told the story, it was still funny. Hearing it in person was almost too much.

"Right then." I finally said. "Off we go." Mouse padded across the landing and nuzzled his head into my stomach affectionately; probably hiding the look of amusement on his own face. I popped the push-out latch from the other side of the door with a little bit of magic mojo, and sent Butters onto the catwalk and into the monsters' den.

Mouse released his nuzzling and looked up at me with a pleading expression. _This is crazy, _he was probably thinking. _Sure you don't want to think of something better, like maybe, get that little Jewish guy to take us to Burger King?_

"His car's a long way from here, pal".

Mouse cocked his head sideways like he didn't know what I was talking about. His ear flopped limply up on top of his head, and I finally cracked up. I sat down on the stairs and laughed so hard I almost peed. Or, damn, maybe I did a little. Mouse tilted his head over to the other side and huffed, looking at me like I was a lunatic.

"I probably am. Now get moving, Butters'll be there in a minute." I said through giggles. Stress can do strange things to people.

I followed mouse down the stairs and watched him disappear around the corner, heading towards the front of the building. By my count, I had maybe another minute. I took the opportunity to finally relieve myself, and trust me, it was very relieving. I know, not very lady like, but I figure it would have been hard to appear as an intimidating distraction when you're scared shitless and suddenly find yourself standing in a puddle.

I finished up and hobbled carefully over to the rear entrance below the fire escape, hoping I wouldn't have the same luck as Bruce Willis with broken glass. With a small miracle, my luck held. I fingered the small silk pouch in Murphy's pocket, drawing some confidence from it. I checked my drumstick that was threaded through the sweater's knitting on my other side. I gave the can of silly string in the pocket below it a nervous tap, reassuring myself it was still there. I wasn't going to get anymore prepared than this. Not tonight, anyway.

Leaning against the door frame, I gathered my will and shaped it into a picture of what I wanted. For the third time that night, I whispered "Forzare" and heard the satisfying click as the door's latch quietly popped, pushing the door slightly ajar with the momentum.

It was one of the few words I borrowed from Harry. I sucked like something awful when it came to force magic, but I imagined Harry's strength when I used that word, and it always seemed to be just enough for something small, and delicate: Like breaking and entering.

I drew in all the energy around me I could, then took a breath to steady myself. It was showtime.


	9. Chapter 9

I flung the warehouse door fully open, and marched in doing my best impression of a pissed off pixie. I didn't let the pain from every other step show on my face. The door slammed shut behind me and the impact boomed across the open space. The two vamp goons were out of sight, but the wicked witch was front and center arranging someone across an alter. Her head snapped up at the sound.

I didn't wait to see what would happen next.

I screamed "Hikari!" as loud as I could and threw up my arms.

A solid wall of dazzling light sprung to life in front of me and stretched across the length of the room. I clenched my fists and crossed my arms in front of me growling, "Weiqi!" to send it rushing forward.

One of the vampire goons literally came flying out of the office beside me in a disconcertingly graceful leap. The other was running right behind him. From the corner of my eye I saw Ugly burst through the wall of light heading my way too.

No one could see Butters climbing down to let Mouse in.

Distraction 'part one,' check.

I sprung into action with a hiss of "meinaini," bringing up a veil as I ducked into a roll to the right. I came out of the roll by (putting my full weight on the injured leg) with an agonizing hiss of "Fuck," and clutched at the can of silly string and one of Guard's runes. I was impressed at my own maneuvering skills. The flying vampire went sailing through the place I was standing a split second ago and I flung the veiled rune straight at the spot I hoped he would land on. The other vampire ground to a halt, looking around just as the rune I had thrown went off not four inches to the left of where his companion had landed.

The shock wave from the explosion half knocked the sense out of me and sent me staggering off to the side. Considering my concentration was already occupied with muttering and pouring heat down my arm into the can of silly string, I lost most of the veil. I flung the can with all my might behind the confused vampire, hoping to toss the next rune at his feet when he turned around. I never got the chance.

A solid weight hit me like a train the moment the can left my fingertips. I prayed I wouldn't drop the rune. The weight carried me with it into a support beam against the wall. I had lost track of Ugly in the excitement. She had apparently never stopped her charge.

Had we hit the ridged metal wall instead of the metal stud, I suspect we would have gone right through. Considering the pains screaming up my back in that moment, it would have been a much more pleasant experience.

She pulled her weight off of me and grasped my shoulders on either side, twisting and dragging me forward like she was about to fling me to the opposite wall.

In that moment, I heard the impact of the can, and both saw and heard the forceful expansion of silly-string arching and growing through the air like a forming monster.

For all the sparkling lights I can throw up in my life, I am convinced I will never see a more effective distraction than an exploding can of super-heated silly string.

The witchy vampire jerked her head to stare at the spectacle. I said a quick thanks to God and took the opportunity to jamb the force-rune I was holding straight into Ugly's face.

The rune went off on contact; dropping the vamp over backwards and nearly tearing my arm out of it's socket. Or, judging from the pain, maybe actually tearing my arm out of its socket. I tried to get my right arm working again and slid my drumstick out with the left just in time to see the last vamp standing come tearing at me; leaving bits of silly-goo in his wake.

Unfortunately for him, he was too focused on ending the little bitch that broke his Queens nose to notice the blue glow of an apparently possessed dog bearing down on him. Mouse took him down in much the same way Ugly handled me moments ago, only with more flashing teeth and claws. And they actually did go through the wall.

Seconds later the vampire came crashing back through the gaping hole, covered in pale blood and generally looking like death chilled over. He turned and scrambled towards the office door. Mouse took him down a final time with a leap that closed his jaws on the back of the vampire's retreating neck. Even a vampire should know better than to run from an angry dog. Mouse clamped down tight and shook his head vigorously like he might be shaking a favorite toy. Or at least, that's what it would look like if he ever lowered himself to such a level as to be _seen_ playing with a toy.

Mouse looked up, pleased with a job well done, and I surveyed the scene. Instead of the charred remains of a toasty vampire, there was only a broad, black smudge on the ground with a smear of pale blood streaking out of it. A hissing sound from the front of the warehouse suggested where those remains might be. Wounded, he had gone straight for the captured thralls. A hissing from behind me and to the left suggested Ugly was waking up, too.

We turned to glance at each other. The look I got from Mouse said _'I got this, you go take care of them.'_ Or, more likely, the look I gave him said, '_Help! I can't handle this anymore! What do I do!'._

In any case, Mouse turned and charged in the direction of Ugly, and I took off towards the captive thralls and Butters, bare feet slapping on the floor and all.

Nothing says _'Here I come, and you better watch out cause I'm all kinds of dangerous'_ like the sound of feet slapping on the ground. To complete the circle of fear, I shouted, "Tinkerbell Rules!" with all my might while I gave a tug and wrenched my shoulder back into its socket. The pain overpowered my adrenaline high and brought out an agonized laugh that truly sounded like the voice of a crazy person.

A literal Roar of "Poooolllkaaaaa!" filled my ears in reply. I saw Butters holding back the crispy critter with a short blast from a fire extinguisher, then turning it around to club him over the head.

_Mmmm, that's gotta smart, _I thought. I was more than half way to closing the distance while the vampire-kabob was writhing on the floor, moving in closer to Butters. Apparently the extinguishing juice was on empty, or just wasn't effective anymore because butters continued wielding it like a club, batting the creature aside the head over and over, while the vampires one arm that still seemed to work continued clawing and slicing at Butters' Legs.

As I approached, the vampire finally got a good grip on his ankle and sent his crispy fingers sinking into Butter's skin. The man went rigid and a look of ecstasy, rather than pain, washed abruptly over him. The vampire was distracted with his frantic feeding so I didn't bother announcing I was there. His mouth was hanging open in his own ecstasy, and moving up towards Butters leg. I promptly shoved my final rune into the gaping maw and slapped it shut with the heel of my hand. Crispy's eyes snapped open an instant before they blew out of his head.

For someone who had been so thoroughly charred, I was amazed at how much slimy, disgusting gook came flying out of him and onto me. I was going to spend the next week in a hot bath. Even if I had to blow out every water heater in Chicago to make it happen, I was going to spend next week in a hot bath.

"I would have come sooner to help you," Butter's mumbled half-incoherently and breathing hard. "But as you see, I got a little detained.

I stepped over him grinning and moved quickly towards the last person who was still tied to the wall. "Oh, I think you came a lot quicker than you think," I replied over my shoulder. What can I say? Covered in filth, it's hard not to act like a dirty girl.

I made quick work untying the last poor… person, and sent her towards the open front door. Giving the same advice I assume Butters had given to the others, I said "Run like hell." She blinked a few times and staggered in the direction I had indicated.

Butters was picking himself off the floor and trying to look dignified when I turned around and saw her walking behind him. He froze, still facing me when he saw my expression.

Ugly had mouse by the back leg, and was dragging him limply behind her towards the ritual circle's center. She dropped him there and straightened, turning to glare at us.

"Is he…," I began in a whisper, chocking up.

Butters turned around, still favoring his leg.

Ugly let out a laugh to indicate she truly was insane.

Anger and rage began to burn behind my eyes. Mouse. The only thing. No, the only person I had left to walk with me through my miserable life, was laying unconscious, maybe dead. I was not going to fall apart. And _This bitch _was going to die. She needed to die.

"My dear…," Ugly's voice cracked through my consciousness. "Let's you and I have a talk, shall we?" I could feel her powers of seduction fall on me. This, without doubt, was the one. It wasn't as strong as the previous night, but it had the same dark energy. "Join me," she said, "and I let these pathetic mortals go free."

I wanted to rearrange her nose for a second time.

"Resist, and you will all die."

I stared the wicked concubus down, the weight of dark energy all around her. I could feel it. I could reach up and grab it, take it in and maybe stand a chance. My anger began to boil over. On my own good faith and power, I didn't stand a chance. I knew that. I'd be using it for good after all. Defeat the bad guy by any means necessary, isn't that what Harry always did?

I started to draw on it. Ugly's face contorted, making it even uglier, and she cackled. Honest to God cackled.

This wasn't right. Harry used his brains. And that's what he taught me to do. He put his life on the line teaching me to avoid the dark pull. And dammit, I would. Even if it Killed me. Shit, I thought, It probably would.

I gripped my drumstick harder, struggled to overcome her influence and leveled the rod of smoking power rangers at her. I considered my next move like it would be my last. The seductive force pushed in harder.

I sneered.

"Don't. call me. _Dear_," I said through clenched teeth. I imagined a circle forming around me, and willed it to snap closed. I felt the darkness of the incapacitating seduction ease the slightest bit.

"My name," I said, drawing back up straight, "is Margaret. Katherine. Amanda. Carpenter." I pronounced each word slowly. "You killed my doggy." I drew in a breath. "Now prepare to die!" I put the tounge roll into pronouncing 'prepare', then politely spat; giving the appropriate nod where nods are due.

The weight of her influence rolled off me like the stone from Jesus' tomb. She looked aghast in disbelief. Wizards, you see, simply don't go around giving their full names. People can do horrible things to a practitioner if they have your name, pronounced from your own lips. They can flat out control you. It was risky, but it had the desired effect.

I'm sure she was about to cackle something along the lines of "_Haha! You little fool, your mine!" _But during the last few minutes, I had stubbed my pinki toe, gotten my entire body plastered with vampire brain-goo, and I had to pee again. In short, I wasn't in the mood.

I drew in my will and shoved all my anger, all my pain, all my loss into the drumstick I held leveled at her head. I screamed something incoherent, and released it all with the white-hot image of my righteous rage. The stickers went up in a puff and a single thread of blue flame screamed out at the lousy whore. My aim was poor, falling to the right and a little bellow my target, which was her dammed neck. Almost as good though, the flame hit her right at the armpit and I jerked the rod to the right before releasing the spell in exhaustion. I sank down into the floor. The effect was impressive. I managed to cleanly remove her left arm at the shoulder. Streams of blood squirted and dripped out of arteries that were too large to have been seared closed by the heat. Damn, I thought, if Harry could see me now.

But the witch wasn't done. She screamed and flailed her remaining arm about. She fell to her knees and searched the ground frantically in blind hysteria, at last picking up her arm. She tried desperately to put it back on, then finally flung it at me. I put up my own to deflect it.

She stared marching towards me, eyes glazed over, then stopped shaking in rage. She reached down and tore off her robe. What was left of her body was simply gorgeous. I couldn't believe the contrast to the hideous disfigured face. I felt the tingles and shudders surge through my aching body again.

She came back at me again, stooped down and pulled me up level with her face, squeezing hard around around my neck. "Look what you've done! Look what you've ruined!" she shouted.

"It could have been… different. But now you will pay," she promised. Ugly dropped me on the ground then, turning back to the circle and Mouse. She started shuffling her feet on the ground and mumbling hysterical nonsense on her way there.

I could feel the energy gathering around her. I watched the whole spectacle in an exhausted daze. I said something obscene while she chanted more gibberish. I tried to pull myself off the ground and found Butters already there, trying to help me up. My head was spinning with fatigue and couldn't keep up with the pace around me.

I heard the chaotic mumbling reach a crescendo, and looked up to see Ugly one last time as she threw out her arm towards me.

A wall of flame, much like the wall of lights I had used earlier, appeared and began flying at us. Butters was dragging me away, limping as quickly as he could, but I could tell we didn't stand a chance. The wall of flames was maybe sixty feet away. The door was farther. The flames were coming faster than we were going.

It didn't take a physics professor to do the math. We were about to die.

I glanced up at the man dragging me. His hawkish nose and somewhat beady eyes were set in determination. "Go," I said.

He didn't pause or stop pulling. "If I left," He panted, "I'd have to come back to get your remains." He heaved and tried to double his pace. "There's no way I could come twice in the same place, on the same night. I need variety. Now stop that fire!"

Like I said. Funny guy.

I looked back at the fire. A dozen feet away. I could feel its warmth on my toes. It actually felt good. _What the fuck, here goes nothing_, I thought. I pulled in everything I could muster, and I did it quick. Even fully charged, my ability to manipulate wind was only better than my force magic by a few degrees. Whatever. Maybe I could buy us a few seconds to get out the door.

I let it all go screaming "Kamikaze!" at the top of my lungs, and watched as a gentle breeze slightly disturbed the tattered hem of my skirt in front of me.

Figures. Shit.

Without warning, all eight doors of the warehouse exploded inward.

Gusts of wind swirled around and surrounded the fire, stopping it in its place, then drawing it into a single cylinder of heat.

I blinked. I was pretty sure I didn't do that.

Butters came to a halt and swore something about polka, in surprise. "Wow…" he said after a beat, and looked down at me.

I watched as the fire swirled and writhed with rage, surrounded by a miniature cyclone of air. The funnel of flames moved at once, twice as fast as it had come, and right back at it's summoner, engulfing her entirely.

I already knew how well vampires burned.

Through the flames, we could see her thrash and writhe. "No!" she screamed in agony, while apparently trying to remember how to stop drop and roll. "I didn't call power from You!"

"But Here I Am!" The howling wind replied, then it blew over me and disappeared with a whisper.

It could have been my imagination. Sure, what with all the excitement sending it wild. But I swear the wind said that. Even though Butters didn't hear a thing.

I was left with a sense of peace and the fresh scent of spring. I had probably tipped over the edge, embracing crazy like a long lost friend.


	10. Chapter 10

There was nothing but a pile of ash when Ugly stopped burning. Butters made short work of freeing the thrall strapped down to the alter, while I went to Mouse's side. The sight of his chest falling up and down in steady, if ragged breaths was more joy and happiness than I had felt in weeks. In his mouth, was the broken anklet I lost a week ago in one of my first confrontations after Harry disappeared. I had filed it away with all the other innocent joys of childhood that were lost since I went on the run. Since then I hadn't given it another thought. It was a gift from Harry, and something I once and still held dear.

"Good Boy," I murmered, rustling the thick grey fur on his head.

He just looked up at me and sighed.

By the time we were moving again, morning light was streaming in through every door frame in the building. The doors themselves had blown off the hinges and were scattered in twisted heaps across the blood stains and symbolism all over the floor.

I tried not to reflect on how many of those blood stains came from the three of us. It wasn't as hard to ignore as it might have been: I had to direct my full attention towards holding up my end of the only door that hadn't been twisted beyond recognition. Mouse lay on top of the door, looking apologetic like maybe he just pooped on the floor.

Butters grunted, trying not to put down too much weight on his ravaged ankle. "Don't worry buddy. You've got two broken legs, and half a dozen cracked ribs. I'd just be lying there too."

Mouse groaned, took a deep breath, immediately regretted it, and let it out with a pitiful sounding, shaky wimper.

"Don't make me tell folks about that cat." I grunted between breaths and steps. Everything hurt. And I mean everything. I trudged on for what seemed like eternity.

"Little risky to be throwing your name around like that," Butters grunted out, taking my mind off the pain. "Didn't Harry tell me you folk can be bound or something like that?"

I actually laughed. "I was imitating my mother, the way she pronounces it when I'm in major trouble." I groaned and tried to shift the weight more towards my good leg. Or well, my better leg, anyway. "The most anyone can do with that, even if it was overheard, is annoy me to death. That, and maybe make me clean up my room." I hoped I was right.

Butters heaved out another grunt in reply.

I stumbled, nearly fell, and said, "This is it, we gotta stop here."

He helped me ease the impromptu stretcher to the ground. "We've barely gone more than a block."

Well, he eased. I mostly just did my best not to drop it too quickly. "We wait here. You go be a hero and find help."

"And just leave you in the open?"

I sighed, too exhausted to open my eyes back up. "In case you didn't notice," I slurred, "I'm sliding my skirt up my leg. Saying you'd rather stay for the show?"

"Darling, you're covered from head to toe in soot. Have been half the night." I heard him chuckle. "There are a few sexy little places where the soot washed away." Hearing that from him surprised me. "Too bad it only got washed away because it dripped off with the brain goo and gook you're still covered in. Quite the little sex kitten, you are."

I scrunched my face up and squinted one eye open to glare at him. "That really hurts, you know."

"Not to mention the little chunks of who knows what stuck all over you," He continued. I reclosed my eye. He was probably smiling. "So don't even bother trying that number."

_Fair enough_, I thought. And with that, I went straight into the most blissful sleep I've known. It's easier not to think about how gross you might be when you're unconscious. Especially when that gross is seeping through your skin, making you feel oh-so-good. Seriously. Freaking vampire gook.

o-O-o

I woke to the touch of a wet, soapy sponge dripping across my cheek. I was freezing. I jerked in surprise to see I was sitting naked in a tub. The thought of Butters giving me a sponge bath was simply terrifying.

"Feel free to get your panties in a wad, that's why I left them on," Murphy said above me. "Now hold still, we're almost done."

I relaxed back into the tub and tried not to shiver while she wiped away the suds and applied some gunk, probably Neosporin, over the fresh stitches in my face.

"I don't like this any more than you do," Murphy offered, finishing up. "The little man said it had to be done."

I grimaced and looked down at the array of patches and bandages that were arranged in some haphazard fashion across most of my body. I almost looked like a work of modern art. I tried not to stare too hard at the ugly purple of my swollen pinkie toe. "Guess I won't be needing my boots anytime soon, anyway," I grumped. I looked up at Murphy. "Thanks."

"For patching you up? It's the least I could do. Especially considering you were bleeding all over my car, my front door, and then my floor. I've got to throw out two rugs, thanks to you."

I tried scrunching my face up into a pout, then stopped cause it hurt. "So sorry I didn't just die on the side of the road."

Murphy grinned. "It's ok. You had a piercing torn mostly out of the left one there. I just had to finish the job for a proper disinfection." Her grin turned wicked as she glanced down at my chest.

My eyes grew wide in terror as I read the sincerity on her face.

Murphy continued. "I called your mother to let her know what happened to you. She suggested I yank out the other one, too." Her chest started heaving in silent laughter, and her mouth turned up further at one corner. "She said it would be important for the symmetry, and all."

I pulled my look of terror away from her quickly to check the damage. I saw the little round bandage at the tip of my left breast. I felt my heart thumping hard beneath it. I tore it up, then settled back, relieved to see the little metal stud poking out of each end.

I gave an angry humph. "That was cruel. Was I still bleeding out while you prepared that little gag?" I folded my arms over my chest, covering back up.

She rolled her eyes and turned to walk out the door. She paused and said over her shoulder, "Get off your ass and wash it. Left bucket's soapy, right bucket's rinsing. You get any of those bandages wet; I guarantee I'll make it unsymmetrical."

I think she meant it, too.

I wiggled a bit and peeled off my thong without sending too much of my body into convulsing agony. Then I set to work, praying no little bits of goo managed their way into the crevasses below.

Getting out of the tub was a bad idea. But I worked through the pain and stood, eyeing the heap of rags that must have been the clothes I wore earlier. I opted instead for the robe Murphy left hanging over the hook on the bathroom door. I heard a loud, booming knock from the living room, then voices. They sounded hostile.

Mouse greeted me as I opened the door. He didn't get up, but crawled and wiggled on his belly towards me, thumping his tail loudly, smacking each side of the narrow hall while he squirmed forward. I ignored the pain and met him half way, bending down to rub him with love behind the ears. "I think you ought to be laying somewhere very comfy and being very still," I suggested. His tail just thumped harder.

I leaned back against the wall, taking note of his outlook. Big toothy grin, head cocked to the side. Tail wagging. Despite the bandages around him, the splints keeping his front legs splayed out straight, not even considering the horrors we just survived and his missing master, he was clearly saying _Great to see you! Comeon! Let's go play!_

Silly dog. Life is harder than that.

The muffled voices from the living room were getting louder, growing in intensity.

"Alright, you win," I said eying him. "Let's go squirm our way over to spy on the grownups out front then. Who knows, maybe we can get you some more action before the day's up."

Mouse's tail thumped harder. I let him lead the way, hoping to cater to his ego.

When I leaned over mouse to peak around the corner, Murphy was still standing in the open frame of the front door, leaning heavily forward onto an old-style walking cane, her feet braced wide. She was squared against two wardens who were facing her down with equal intensity. One was eying the cane with apprehension. The other glared hard into her eyes.

"…All I know," Murphy was saying, "is the daughter of a good friend is staying here for a while." She paused, then placed one hand on her hip, pushed out her chest with confidence, and brought the cane up to rest on her shoulder like a hitter might rest his baseball bat. She looked at one, then turned her head slowly to face the other. "And God help the person who cares to think she's anything other than that." She made that statement sound like a promise, in a voice that was half whisper, half growl.

Mouse met her pitch with a low growl of his own.

The cane cast off a subtle, radiant glow.

o-O-o o-O-o o-O-o o-O-o o-O-o

A/N: Thanks to everyone who has been following along. I hope you have enjoyed the ride as much as me. Cheers, and happy new year!


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